To Live To Suffer
by Raphaella
Summary: He's found beaten and barely alive, yet no one knows why. Hopefully their questions will be answered when and if Kurt recovers.
1. Horror

**To Live To Suffer**

**A/N:** My first Evo fic posted. Warning, Kurt angsty. I'm a cruel writer, beware, heh.

Horror

* * *

The gray, chocking smoke dispersed into the mild night's air, rising up against a dark, cloudless sky. There were no stars shining or twinkling, nothing in the endless void other than the darkest of blues and the uneven silhouette tops of the trees. The grass was damp from a recent light rainfall, and it glistened here and there in the quarter moon's light. Burning away hopelessly at the soggy ground, small foot high fires danced around, slowly dimming away as they found no dry material to burn. Marking the grass other than rain droplets and fire was the shining crimson substance recognizable instantly as blood. It was dotted all about in small and large amounts, mingling with the rainwater and the wet dirt.

Standing in the clearing by the edge of the trees was a large, dark impressive air-vehicle; it's landing ramp down and touching the damp forest floor. Its shining hull reflected the moon's light, glowing against the dark sky, as well as the small fires, lining about around the clearing. Its own light from inside shone out of the opening, creating more glow to this night. However the atmosphere was far worse than the impression the soft glowing lights must give. Tension and terror filled every particle of the air that even the trees seemed to be making an effort to remain still.

"Get him some air."

It was clear from the fires and the dark blood staining the grass that something bad had happened. The stars even refused to shine their beauty, for the heavens were upset at the sight below. The trees, whose leaves were usually uncontrollable even in windless airs, were as still as gravestones against the dark blue of the sky.

"Oxygen – feed him some oxygen!"

The voice belonged to one of the few figures present in the clearing who felt strong enough to speak. The tone was urgent, upset and angry – aghast, shocked, confused, worried and fearful. His red shades flashed in the moonlight as he shook with his words.

The fire continued to burn, ignored by the seven people in the clearing rushing or standing about with frantic or paralyzed demeanors. Six pairs of eyes reflected the bright orange lights clearly, mirroring the dancing flames and giving them the shimming appearance of forming tears.

"God, there's so much blood . . ."

Another voice, high pitched, whispered as the she watched the scene in front. Jean Grey's face wore every line of anguish that was possible to read on her features. She stood next to a stretcher, watching the movements of three others to her left.

"Calm down, it's alright – you're gonna be alright," Hank McCoy soothed the figure on the ground, the one everyone was watching with horror. Though Hank's words were supposed to have the effect they ordered, his tone did not. It was clear he was as horror-struck as the rest, and in no mind to say for certain if this figure was going to be all right. He had momentarily found the strength to speak, before it disappeared again and he could say no more. The beast of a man was being as careful, as gentle and as quickly as he could at removing a frighteningly long shard of glass from the figure's heaving chest. He slid it from the bloodied tissue with a sickening short sound and tossed it aside without looking at it. His eyes remained on the person laid out in front of him.

As soon as the removal of the glass was done, the man on Hank's right side slid his hands under the body of the boy and lifted him as gently as he could.

"Scott – get that stretcher over here, now!" He growled as he straightened up. The figure on the boy's other side ran to the waiting table and quickly pushed it over the damp ground to Wolverine.

As he was setting the boy down on the white stretched, Hank placed an oxygen mask over his blood-smeared mouth and nose, and lifted the strap over and to the back of his head and to secure it.

"C'mon, Kurt, stay with us here!" Hank said desperately, running along side the stretcher as Wolverine pushed it hurriedly towards the X Jet's ramp. He held the other end of the oxygen mask, staring down at the kid who was fighting hard to stay alive. The wounds over his body had seeped so much blood his fur was practically red instead, smeared all over his body. His face was contorted into an expression of pure torture – pain and suffering. His mouth was pulled down in a silent scream of agony and his teeth were gritted hard. His hair was filthy, covered in sweat, dirt and blood. Part of his bangs was matted to his temple where a serious wound was still leaking. His tail was slashed so severely the wounds resembled the marking of a tiger's stripes. His chest was moving in an irregular, disturbing pattern, taking in short, sharp breaths.

"Get the Jet ready, Scott – Jean, gimme a hand," Wolverine barked as they ran past her and up the ramp. Scott managed to get ahead and the Jet was leaving the ground in less than fifteen seconds later. The ramp was closed, all persons onboard – and Scott plotted the course back to the Xavier's Institute.

In the back of the Jet the three standing mutants worked quickly to cease as many wounds from bleeding as they could. Wolverine passed what he was told forward, and stepped back to get control of his anger.

There were so many wounds – so many which needed attention right away. Kurt was still conscious – still fighting for his life while enduring the agony of so many injuries. His entire body was on fire, searing with pain, throbbing and aching. He wanted to die – it was too much, he hurt so much, the pain was unbearable but something was keeping him awake – something was throwing in more torture by making him suffer with it all. The pain was so intense, with every heartbeat and every breath it increased. It became too much – he used what little strength by crying out. Tears fell from his tightly shut eyes and streamed down his temples, mixing with the blood. His fur was matted together with the substance, only adding more to his extreme discomfort.

Jean's eyes stung as her own tears fell free. Her heart wrenched at his cry and she felt such a strong feeling of anguish for him – she wanted to cry for him, but she refused to break down. She and Hank worked non-stop to cease the blood flow from the wounds over Kurt's body. The legs of his pants had been torn up, but it was hardly anything compared to his shirt, which was nothing more than a few blood-soaked strands of fabric. The soles of his feet were cut deep, his wrists were slashed, his face and hair was a mess and his usual active tail was limp. The sight was so bad Jean had to turn away for a second to get a grip over herself.

Kurt's breathing was growing worse as the Jet landed in the hanger of the mansion. By this time Hank, Jean and Wolverine had managed to secure rough dressing over most of the serious wounds, but Kurt was still losing blood.

Scott lowered the ramp and ran to assist the others. Storm had rushed onboard and was helping in anyway she could. Hank had managed to hook Kurt to an IV drip, which was delivering fluids into his system, and Jean was left holding the transparent bag high as they raced down the Jet's ramp and towards the infirmary.

Professor X was waiting just outside with his hands together in thought and his head resting on his fingertips. He looked up sharply as the group rushed towards him. He watched them pass, and Wolverine detached himself to stand next to Charles.

"How is he?" Professor X asked seriously.

Wolverine shook his head and stared gravely into the telepath's eyes. "Not good, Charles . . ." he responded in his deep tone. He and the Professor turned and looked solemnly into the room. "Not good."

Inside the infirmary Kurt had been lifted onto a bed, and the stretcher was pushed out of the way. Storm and Jean immediately got to work disinfecting and stitching together the worst of the wounds, while Hank prepared the necessary injections that would help save the boy's life.

No one knew for sure what had happened. No one knew why Kurt had been so viciously attack. All they knew was that Kurt was in seriously bad shape, and they wouldn't know any more until Kurt was well enough to explain … if he recovered…

* * *

**A/N:** Ah, not my first, but the only one I've posted here. Kurt angsty, its addictive. This was going to be a one chaptered story, just short about Kurt's unfortunate beating, but I think I'll continue. I wanted a scene close to that from the movie The Crow, at the beginning where Shelly is dying, it's night, there's mess everywhere, cops, flashing lights, confusion and such. Hope I achieved it. 


	2. Confusion

**To Live To Suffer**

Confusion

**

* * *

**

The pain was so intense, so sharp. It throbbed and stung away at every muscle, prickling every part of his body. There was an unbearable ache vibrating through his bones and nervous system. Oh God, the agony. Kurt was so confused, so hurt he didn't know anything anymore except the pain. There were people above him, moving around quickly, speaking in unclear voices, disappearing from his range of vision. Every second through the pain he could feel more, something was tugging at his skin on his chest, pinching at his fur. Sharp pricks of even more pain were inflicted on his arm now and then as someone dug something into his skin. Tears fell down his temples again in fear. Why couldn't they leave him alone? Why did they have to come back and do more damage? He was already beaten to a dangerous state, and yet they were still adding more to the agony.

Kurt let loose a strained whimper, and heard the voices again. They were aimed at him, he knew, but he couldn't understand them. Please just finish me off – he cried mentally, begging for the pain to cease. It hurts so much... please make it stop... A high-pitched whine escaped his throat as someone tugged at the torn skin on his chest again. A new stream of tears fell free.

Ororo's eyebrows pulled up at the sound of Kurt's cry of pain. But she continued to stitch up his chest. She couldn't stop, but she knew it was causing a part of his hurt. Her own heart was aching for him – his state was unbelievable. When she had first seen him like this she had frozen for a split second, horrified. How could anyone do this to a human being? Her answer was pretty easy: anyone who hated mutants – anyone who didn't understand why Kurt looked like a demon. She couldn't believe how people called this boy a monster, when they themselves were capable of this.

"Jean, that wound on his forehead," Hank spoke, directing Jean's attention to the serious injury as soon as she had finished stitching Kurt's arm. They had no time for dressing the wounds properly; they had to sew them up first before Kurt lost any more blood.

The redhead moved quickly to the front of the bed and blinked back a tear that was threatening to fall. She disinfected the lesion as fast and carefully as she could, trying her best to clean up the surrounding fur. She was afraid one or more of his serious wounds would end up infected, and in his terribly weak state his own body would not be able to fight it. His immune system was down so low he could catch anything, she realized.

Jean's eyes flickered from her work on his forehead to Kurt's tightly shut eyes, and her heart gave a painful wrench as she saw more tears crawl down his face. Pull through, Kurt, she prayed. Please be alright ...

* * *

The waiting was almost as unbearable as the helping. Professor X had never felt so worried, or frightened as he did right now. Logan had explained only what he could, the rest was a mystery. So far they were both convincing themselves for the time being that Kurt had been attacked by mutant-haters ... but for someone to do so much damage was inhumane; Charles Xavier couldn't help but wonder if there was something else behind such an attack.

"Professor!"

Charles' eyes closed as he let out a weary breath. The sound of pounding feet grew louder in his direction. He had hoped he wouldn't have to tell anyone about this incident this soon, but it seemed news had reached other ears. Professor X turned around in his wheelchair with a hum, as Logan turned also, and watched the two approaching figures.

"Professor –" Kitty called again as she came to an abrupt stop a foot or two from him with Rogue at her side. Her eyes were wide, and her hair slightly untidy from the running she had just done. It was clear she heard something had happened. Rogue was wearing a similar expression, but she looked on in silence, her lips parted slightly as she awaited an explanation. Both were wearing their pajamas.

Kitty's posture showed her distressed feelings clearly as she spoke. "Is he alright – Is he going to be okay!"

Professor X held up one hand for silence. "Please, Kitty," he said in a soft tone that held worry. He paused before continuing. "Kurt is being tended to right now . . . I don't know of his condition." That was a lie, he knew Kurt was in a really bad state, but he just couldn't bring himself to say it. Kitty was looking so fretful, staring at him as though pleading for him to say something reassuring. Rogue seemed to be showing her own way of worry by adopting a blank expression. Logan's, too was blank, but in his own different way.

The silence built after the Professor's words, but only two seconds later Rogue spoke.

"What happened?" She demanded, keeping her eyes on the Professor, fighting with them not to look behind him into the infirmary.

Professor X shook his head solemnly. "I don't know. We may only know that when Kurt decides to tell us . . . when he is ready." Charles wanted to know as much as they did, it was, after all, one of his students who had been injured so badly, and he liked to know the reason for such things.

Kitty and Rogue were still confused, but more than asking questions, they wanted to see Kurt. There was a desperate feeling in both girls to be in the room with him, to look at him just to know he was going to be alright and to ease their tense minds. Both girls looked from the Professor to Logan, hoping one of them might suddenly say something.

Professor X leaned forward slightly in his chair. "I want you both to go back to your rooms," he said softly. "There's nothing we can do but wait, and Hank may ask you to stay with Kurt tomorrow, for which it would be best to get some sleep." He paused, thoughts clearly running through his mind. "I will tell you anything of Kurt's condition once I know myself. Please, don't worry." He did not want to tell anyone anything tonight. It was late, and he was tired with sleep and worry. How Kitty and Rogue knew something had happened was something he would have to ask tomorrow, right now, he was awake only because he might be needed to help Kurt.

Rogue glanced for the first time into the infirmary. Hank, Ororo and Jean were working desperately to keep Kurt alive. She could tell by their expressions that nothing was alright, and there was everything to worry about. Her eyes fell on her adoptive brother and they widened slightly more; he was covered in blood. Rogue moved slowly past the Professor to stand facing the glass pane into the room.

"Ah don't think ah could sleep, Professor," she said quietly, without looking at him. "Ah'm gonna stay here." She seemed to be caught in a trance, unblinking as she stared into the room. She was horrified.

"I am too," Kitty said with a faint break in her tone, finding her voice. She, too, had kept her eyes from the infirmary until now, and the sight she saw was heartbreaking. Kurt was visible now and then as Hank moved away and then back, and Kitty found herself staring hard at the floor, unable to look back again.

Professor X understood their need to be near, and so he gave his head a small nod. He turned away wordlessly and left, with Logan at his side.

"Where's Scott?" Charles asked, once they were away from the Infirmary and around the corner.

Logan thought for a second with no change of expression. "Last I saw, he was still on board the Jet."

Professor X nodded again and stopped his wheelchair. "I will go check the Jet, it's not like him to disappear at a time like this." He sighed and sat there for a few seconds, thinking. "Will you be remaining with Kitty and Rogue for the night?"

Logan didn't answer straight away. He knew his answer but paused before saying, "Yeah, don' think I can sleep much either after t'night."

"Very well, I will see you later, Logan," the Professor said, turned, and wheeled away towards the hanger. Logan watched for a second before heading for the kitchen. Somehow this night's ordeal had made him thirsty.

The hum of Charles' wheelchair broke the silence in the hanger as the Professor approached the X-Jet. The landing ramp was still down, and the light from inside was on. The man made his way up the ramp and into the vehicle. Following his highly useful telepathy, Professor X found a troubled mind in the back of the Jet. He entered the end room and stopped in the doorway.

"Scott," the Professor caught his attention.

The teenager looked up quickly as though the man had just shouted at him. Scott was sat on the inbuilt seat, holding a bunch of bloodied towels. He had obviously cleaned the Jet of all the mess that had spilled, because the Professor couldn't see a trace anywhere.

"Is he okay?" Scott asked as soon as he realized it was Professor X. Reading Scott's expressions was fairly tricky, as his shades or visor usually hid them, but Charles could see, as well as sense Scott's worry and fear.

"Hank, Ororo and Jean are doing the best they can for him at the minute," he told the young man. "We don't know anything for certain . . ."

Scott looked back down at the floor in silence and the Professor moved further into the room.

"I – I," Scott began, trying to explain something, leaning his arms across his knees and staring down at the bloodied towels. "I would be in there with him . . . but I couldn't stand to see him like that."

Charles studied the teen, and then nodded. At least it explained why Scott hadn't followed Kurt into the infirmary. Professor X knew the two were something of a brotherly pair, and he understood Scott's discomfort to stand by and watch as Kurt was tended to.

"If it wasn't for you and Jean . . ." Scott trailed off, giving the towels a small shake to end his sentence.

"You should thank Jean entirely," Professor X started softly. "I merely felt the distress Kurt was in, an ache at the back of my mind. If it wasn't for her, I would have dismissed it as fatigue." Charles' mind rewound back to barely an hour ago when Jean has suddenly screamed, feeling a brief's moment of the pain Kurt had been in. An invisible shiver ran through his body and he forced the scene from his mind for now. He was too tired to add more to his worry.

Scott was nodding, agreeing to the Professor. "I can't believe this happened so quickly . . . What was Kurt doing out there at this time of night?" He gave a sigh and after a few seconds of silence, stood up. "I think I'll stand outside the infirmary . . ."

Professor X nodded. "Rogue and Kitty are there," he told him. "They heard what happened."

Scott appeared motionless for a second or two, before he indicated that he had heard. Both mutants made their way out of the X Jet, sealing her up as they exited. They began to make their way out of the hanger wordlessly. The only sound was of Scott's soft footfalls, and the professor's electrical hum of his wheelchair. Both where lost in thought, tired and worried.

Inside the institute, a corridor away from the infirmary, the professor and Scott stopped, having to go separate ways.

"Kurt will be fine," Charles said, seeing as Scott was about to make no quick attempt to speak first. "We just have to give him time, and eventually we will know what happened." He watched his oldest student give a small, tired nod while staring at the floor. His shades reflected the light, yet even that seemed dull, adding to his expression where the shades took away.

Scott turned and walked away, down the corridor towards the infirmary as Charles Xavier watched him. It was a second or two before the man sighed and turned his wheelchair, heading to the elevator that would take him to the bedrooms floor. As tired as he was, he knew he was not getting sleep tonight.

* * *

**AN:** I'm honored I got such gud reviews, thank you for that, I really appreciate your feedback. Sorry the chapter was late, I usually update sooner, but I get caught up in artwork. Speaking of which, fanart for this, did you say Snitter.. umm.. oh the evilness, that would be some powerful picture eh? Lol, thanks again for the reviews, next chapter should include more Kurt ;) 


	3. Waiting

**To Live To Suffer**

Waiting

* * *

It seemed so strange to be stood there, fear gripping his heart, while the rest of the institute slept peacefully. Scott couldn't help but feel this night was too unreal to have actually happened. He wished he could wake up and find himself in his bed, knowing it was a dream. But it wasn't. He wasn't going to walk down to the kitchen in the morning, with a greeting smile, and see Kurt loading up his breakfast plate with double the amount of everyone else's food; or to see him downing two glasses of orange juice before asking Kitty if he could finish hers. Was he even going to see Kurt's fanged, carefree smile again? After this trauma, it was probably going to be a long time until he, Scott, smiled. How he owed so much to Jean. If it wasn't for her abilities, Kurt would most likely by dead …

Shaking his head for thinking such thoughts, Scott looked up Kitty and Rogue. He was sat on the cool floor next to the only chair outside the infirmary. Both girls were half asleep, sharing the cushioned seat, having nodded off only a half hour ago.

It had been a long night, but early morning had arrived. Scott glanced at the clock on the wall to find he had been there for almost five hours, and still they had not been told anything. Professor X had appeared once in that time, to see if there was any news, and Logan had popped down for an hour in which time he was asked to come into the infirmary to make a blood transfusion. Scott was so tired he could barely remember the small conversations he had shared with them. His eyes lowered back to the floor as his lids drooped, but he refused to sleep. Kitty stirred next to him, her own eyelids fluttering. Her expression was not peaceful, and there was a small frown creasing her features.

Minutes must have passed as Scott sat there, fighting off sleep and locking away all the bad thoughts that kept entering his mind. This had to be one of the worst nights he had ever had, and he hoped he was never going to have to sit here again, fearing for someone's life.

"Scott?"

The voice had been soft, and his sleep-clogged brain made it seem as though it had been something from the back of his mind. But he knew the voice, and sensed movement in front of him. He forced his eyes open, lifted his head and looked up.

"Jean," he said at once, getting to his feet. He hadn't seen her, Hank or Ororo since they had run off the X-Jet. Scott found his feet, a little clumsily, and stumbled over to her, straightening himself out.

She was stood in front of the infirmary entrance, and in this light she looked as bad as he felt. Her expression didn't comfort him, as he hoped it would.

"W-what's the news," he stuttered, working his throat in his exhausted state.

"He's stable," she replied wearily, closing her eyes for a brief second. "We did everything we could, and he'll recover . . ." she looked into his eyes through his shades. "But it'll take time . . . some of his wounds have already caught infection, and his body is too weak . . ." She seemed to have lost the strength to finish. She swallowed and glanced at the floor. "Logan's blood gave him a small boost of strength, but it was used almost immediately on repairing his wounds, so we don't know when he could wake up."

Scott stared at her, feeling only slightly better. The news that Kurt was obviously unconscious now was – horrible as it sounded – good, because it meant he was no longer in pain. But it sounded as though it was going to take days for Kurt's body to regain enough strength to wake up. And when he did, he was not going to be his usual self . . .

Scott focused back on the redhead before him. "Jean, listen," he started softly, "if it wasn't for you – " he paused a beat, unsure how to say what he wanted. " . . . thank you . . ."

She smiled, though half of it was forced, he could tell, she was too tired. "Don't thank me, I couldn't have done anything else . . ." _Don't thank me at all, I lied when I explained Kurt's situation . . . it was so much more serious than I made it out to be. Maybe if I had told you Kurt was being beaten to death you all wouldn't have paused to question me and we could have saved him frommost of those wounds._

"Jean . . . ?" asked the tired voice of Kitty from behind Scott. The girl blinked awake, looking all the more tired, and focused her blue eyes on the redhead. "Jean – what's happened? Is he okay?" Her movement and questions woke Rogue, who stirred and noticed the older mutant too.

Jean took in an audible breath to add a bit more volume to her voice. "He's going to be okay," she told them.

Scott turned his head away from the girls and into the infirmary as Kitty and Rogue climbed off the chair. Hank was still moving about, though less frantic, and Ororo was sat by Kurt's bedside, staring sadly at the teenager's face, stroking back a bit of hair. Kurt himself looked a bit better, but Scott couldn't see much from here.

"You can go in," Jean said quietly, noticing his and the girls' gaze.

Scott glanced back at her before he, Kitty and Rogue moved slowly into the infirmary. The lighting in here was considerably brighter, as it had to be for the teachers to see what they were doing. Scott's eyes adjusted behind his shades at the red light, and he could feel the temperature in this room was slightly warmer to the area outside.

Hank and Ororo looked up as Scott, Rogue and Kitty joined them, giving them a weak smile each. Ororo stood up.

"He'll be fine," she said comfortingly. "As long as we keep an eye on him."

The three turned their eyes down to the blue mutant sleeping on the bed before them. His fur was clean now, having been washed and clothed, probably by Hank. He was wearing only a pair of white boxers that the Beast had made Scott fetch from Kurt's room, so they could get to Kurt's wounds without a problem. The room was fairly warm, and there was a blanket folded at the end of the bed for when Hank was finished checking the dressings.

Kitty lowered to her knees by Kurt's side near his head, studying him with a sad expression. This was the boy who had a never-ending source of energy that always kept him bouncing around, making people laugh. Now, as they all looked at him, he was fighting for just a bit of that energy to recover. There was a gauze bandage taped to his forehead near his left temple, half hidden by his hair, which was the only serious wound on his face. A small red scar nicked his right cheek and another across his nose. Ororo, Hank and Jean had done a very good job at cleaning him up. His face looked ten times better than when Scott had last seen him . . . but still, it wasn't what anyone liked to see on Kurt's features.

Most of his chest was dressed in a larger, more padded bandage, taped around his torso. There was the faintest stain on blood in the center that had managed to soak through. Scott's own chest seemed to ache as he imagined a wound like that on him. He remembered the long shard of glass Hank had took out, and wondered if perhaps there was deeper damage than they were being told. Obviously his ribs had been cracked, having seen how deep the glass had been wedged, but no one had told him that. Scott's eyes wandered from the large bandage to the rest covering the blue furred body, his eyebrows rose up slowly in aching pain. His right arm was pretty much half white with two wrappings, one on his upper arm, another on his lower, and yet there was still a scar or two uncovered; his left arm wore a small band just under his shoulder. And there was still more bandages: a thicker one on his left thigh, and another on his right shin, along with the unwrapped scars. It was one of the saddest sights any of them had seen.

And apart from the bandages, there was the necessary medical equipment. Drips, tubes, an oxygen mask and aheart monitorwere attached to him,helping Kurt to pull through. Rogue's heart wrenched. God, who could do this to someone? Just why had Kurt let them? His teleporting abilities would have saved in a second from this; was he caught by surprised? Unable to muster the strength to teleport? Questions that begged to be answered were queuing up, but Rogue, being a master at shutting out thoughts, ignored them. She had always waved Kurt away when he tried to talk to her, but now, she was wishing she could hear his voice, just to tease her about how pale she looked, like he did when he had nothing else to say. Things were going to be horribly quiet at the institute for a while . . .

Hank had moved over to Ororo, quite silent for a man his size. He placed a gentle hand on hers and drew the attention of her eyes.

"Go get some rest," he suggested softly. "He'll be fine now, with us here."

Ororo nodded. "Yes, I think I will. Make sure you get some sleep, Hank," she said, and with a wordless nod to the younger mutants, took another look at the sleeping elf, and walked out of the infirmary. Hank himself looked exhausted more so than anyone else, but he seemed determined to stay in the room. Scott noticed for the first time he still had the faintest color of blood stained on the fur on his hands.

"Mr. McCoy," Scott spoke up as Rogue sat down carefully on the bed, staring at her adoptive brother, "you should get some rest too –" he gestured to himself, Kitty and Rogue " – we can stay here and looked over Kurt."

Hank shook his head. "Thank you, but I can't . . ." he suddenly looked wearier than ever, his eyelids lowered to look at the floor instead of at Scott. "I don't think Kurt is out of the woods yet . . . I'd rather stay here, just in case . . ." Hank felt unsure about his work on Kurt. After all he wasn't a doctor, he only had some knowledge of medical treatment, and he was afraid something would happen that he wouldn't be able to help with. Kurt's life was in his hands, and it scared him to think he might let the boy down.

Everyone was silent for what seemed like minutes. It was ten seconds later when Scott broke the silence again.

"There won't be . . anypermenent damage, will there?" He asked, a hopeful note in his tone.

Hank's expression remained the same. "I'm not sure . . . his thigh muscle was pretty bad, I don't know if he'll suffer a limp . . ."

A limp? Kurt was so active, he loved to let out his energy – a limp would totally break his heart. He would be warned by everyone to take it easy, and Scott had come to know that Kurt would not like to hear that warning in his direction, nor would he listen to it. He was the athletic member of the team, having that title taken away because of a ripped muscle would causegreat hurt on the guy . . . Scott prayed his muscle repaired properly.

The heart monitor let out an irregular beeping pattern for two seconds before returning to normal. Everyone stared at it, and then back at Kurt. Scott swallowed, realizing that this day, he would have to be watched carefully.

* * *

**A:N**: umm… I'm not sure I want to leave it there… but I already have the next chapter figured. I'm gonna go ahead and thank y'all individually, since I've seen it a lot in the evo section:

**Carol J:** Thank you for not suing me, lol, ah try mah best with reactions, be sure to tell me if anything seems off ;)

**DemonRogue13:** Thank you

**Snitter:** Danke, lol, yeah, I just realized I haven't seen much leader-to-leader talk either. And gotta start with the fun things first, pain and all, it's pretty fun to write – of course, I don't mean I like writing Kurt in pain, oh, well, I do, but, ah, I'm shutting up.

**TheDudeLordOfFantasy:** heh, thanks for the enthusiastic review, another Kurt angsty addict, eh? That's good to hear, lol. Thanks for the fav ;)

**ToiletDuck85:** lol, 90 of sympathy for poor Kurt, I think the other 10 should go to the others for the bearing with it. Yeah, why waste an opportunity to throw them all in hell, ;) Thanks too much

**Kurrtygirl**: Yeah, I wanted it to be sad, a fic that forces you to feel bad for the characters, lol

**Anonymous**: Thanks, and don't worry, Kurt will live, I'd never dream of killing him off… well, maybe if I had another plot to bring him back, love the tension everyone feels with stories like that, mwaha, evil is good.


	4. Watching

**To Live To Suffer**

Watching

**

* * *

**

"Rogue? Rogue . . . "

The Goth stirred, letting lose a small groan as she blinked herself awake. Lifting her head from her arms, she first noticed the lightness in the room, and the muffled, distant sounds of a Danger Room session over the heart monitor. With the mansion as quiet as this around, it was easy to hear things. Rogue realized she had fallen asleep by Kurt's side, leaning on the white sheets, which had been pulled over him. She turned her head to the voice.

"Rogue, go get something to eat," Jean said softly. "I'll stay here for you."

It was late morning according to the clock on the wall, and Rogue had been sat there since she had been allowed into the infirmary. Kitty had been sat with her on the other side of the bed, but she was gone from her spot; the sheets were still creased where the valley girl had been leaning. Rogue couldn't remember much of the night, except Scott leaving not long ago for a glass of water, and not returning. Jean had hovered about in the infirmary until she too had disappeared with Hank. She vaguely remembered the Beast returning to check Kurt's vitals, but she had been half asleep so she didn't know if he had needed to do anything.

"Nah, ah'm not hungry," Rogue answered with a lie, sitting up and stretching. Her back was aching from her position, and she was still tired, not to mention starving. She didn't feel like leaving Kurt's side though, she felt it was her duty to stay. _Maybe that's tha sisterly sighd kickin' in_, she thought. She never really thought what it would be like to have a brother. She'd always thought of younger siblings to be a pain in the backside all the time, never getting along. But no, that wasn't what it felt like with Kurt. He was a good brother because he wanted to be one; he wanted to have a sister. She had never actedlike a sistertowards him because she didn't know how, but she realized she felt herself looking out a bit more for him, and feeling concerned when he seemed too quiet. Maybe she was beginning to care for him as a brother. Thinking about it now, and watching him rest in an almost peaceful way, she wanted to be his sister. The hurt she felt just seeing him like this was different to that she would be feeling if she were looking down at a friend.

Jean didn't need to read Rogue's mind to tell she was lying. "I know you want to stay with him, but let me. You can come back down as soon as you've eaten and changed."

Rogue wasn't one to give in to Jean, but she could admit that Jean was right in saying she needed a break, and she knew the redhead would watch Kurt carefully. Rogue just didn't want to let him out of her sight, but he was going to be like this for a day or more, and she couldn't watch him the entire time.

". . . Alright," Rogue said finally after a couple of seconds, standing up. She tucked back white strands of her hair and stared at Kurt. He was exactly the samewhen she first saw him like this, a sad sight to look upon, but seeming so helpless it made hers and everyone's hearts ache. His chest barely rose and fell as he breathed, apart from that he was as still as death. Rogue's eyes flickered to the heart monitor that was pinging back a regular beat. Rogue wasn't certain, but it seemed slower than a normal pattern.

The Goth finally turned and walked around Jean, making her way to the door. She stopped and looked back to see the redhead sitting down at her seat, reaching a hand over and gently fingering back a few strands of blue hair on the boy's face. Rogue's eye fell on the bandage on his forehead and realized it had been redressed. Hank must have done that when Rogue had last seen him.

With a growl from her stomach that brought back her attention, she turned and walked away from the infirmary to the girls' wing, lost in thoughts.

* * *

The entire institute was aware of Kurt's critical condition by the afternoon. The place automatically calmed down and noise levels dropped. Professor X felt it necessary to tell all his students just what had happened, so that they really understood what Kurt had been through, and would know how to behave around him when he woke. He mentally asked for forgiveness, because he knew Kurt would not like pity or sorrow. That was the whole idea of his carefree personality, to avoid the sorry looks. He didn't like it, because he wanted to be normal, and normal people didn't receive those glances. The Professor knew Kurt had never told a single person of the horror he experience back home in Germany, when he was almost burned for his appearance. But sometimes the telepath was actually tempted to tell it himself, having listened to some of his students complain(of which he felt pained to hear) but Kurt was so much worse off than they were. His past seemed like a tale to tell, just so they know that they were getting the better half of the prejudice. But no, he would never tell anyone anything someone didn't want told. Except this, because this was something Kurt couldn't hide, nor anyone else. He was missing from daily activities so students were bound to be curious asto his disappearance. Eventually they would ask, and the Professor, who didn't like to lie with such serious things, would tell. At least everyone would understand just how careful Kurt had to be with his appearance. Maybe it might give them a little extra caution too.

When the Professor had called everyone into briefing room and the news had been told, the silence that waspredictedto hover around took over. Charles gave them permission to leave the room, and most did so, very slowly. It was the X-Men, minus Rogue, who remained where they sat or stood.

"Man, I can't believe the 'Crawler would let someone do that to him . . ." Evan said quietly, leaning against a wall near a window, dressing in his usual attire but missing the skateboard. The silence filled the room again as everyone thought about that same question. Why would he let something like that be done to him?

"Let's hope he will be able to tell us," the Professor spoke up, having been sat with his chin resting on his fingertips. "He may not want to at all . . ."

Everyone lowered their eyes or heads in sadness. A few seconds ticked by before Professor X's wheel chair started to hum, and the X-Men glanced up to see him making his way towards the door.

"I'll be around if anyone should need me," he said, and then disappeared from the room.

Quiet surrounded them once again, but it was something they had gotten used to now, and barely noticed with the train of thoughts that pulled into their minds. It was Saturday afternoon; no one had plans other than a relaxing weekend right here, but none of them felt like relaxing, and it didn't feel like a Saturday. All were drawn to the infirmary, wanting to sit down there by Kurt's side as an act of friendship duty.

Jean tugged unconsciously at her right sleeve of her lavender top, chewing on her lip while lost in her own mind. She was pulled back when Scott stood up. His shades flashed as the light caught them.

"I'm going out," he announced, and began striding towards the door.

Evan, who had an idea where Scott was going, stood up straight and followed the older teenager, saying, "Yo, wait up, man. I'm coming with." They both walked out of the room, leaving the soundless air to hover once more.

Having telepathic abilities that liked to step outside of control boundaries now and again, Jean lowered her eyes again to the floor after she had caught a few stray thoughts. So Scott wanted to see what he could find about a blue mutant attack in the streets of Bayville town . . . let him, he might pick up something. Jean knew sitting around and waiting was not Scott's style, nor Evan's. It was surprising to actually find the Spyke in the Institute on a Saturday, and not on the streets with his beloved skateboard.

Jean sighed, and then sensed a presence in front of her. Lifting her head, the telepath looked into the face of Kitty. That ever-present concern that she now wore was Kitty's only expression.

"Jean," she began slowly, unsure what she wanted to say. "If you felt Kurt's pain, couldn't you have seen or sensed Kurt's attackers?"

Jean blinked and thought about the previous night when she had glimpsed Kurt's tortured mind. The pain had been so intense, and the fear so strong she didn't know if she had seen the attackers. There had been confusion, yet understanding why he was being beaten . . . Jean thought harder. Yes, Kurt knew why he was being beaten . . . Was that guilt she remembered? No, maybe not, his mind had been a mess that night. There had been so many confused things running though his head; she had seen blurred imagines through his vision. People had screamedin one of his mindsoldmemorird - resurfaced by the newest attack -all the people who had seen and feared him . . . and then fire.

Jean had never told anyone, not even the professor she had seen some sort of flashback memory replayed in Kurt's mind. Some of which had been so frightening Jean had not wanted to think about them. And she had glimpsed this all so fast; in a matter of seconds she had pinpointed his position while enduring his fear and pain. She only now went back and visited those memories of his, feeling curious but guilty as she did. That one last memory she had seen before her connection was broken had been terrifying. Oh God, poor Kurt had been so scared, he had been screaming – people were yelling, there was smoke, heat, fire, and hatred in this memory. But no escape – Kurt had not yet learned of his teleporting abilities – he was almost burned at the stake . . .

"Jean? Jean's what's wrong?"

The urgent voice of Kitty broke into her mind and Jean opened her wet eyes. Tears had leaked down her cheeks without Jean even noticing. She had been too caught up in that memory she had almost lived it herself – and the fear was still strong. Jean took in a deep shaky breath and placed a hand over her mouth, blinking away more tears. Kurt had actually suffered what she had just seen.

Jean sniffed, her hand remaining over her mouth so Kitty wouldn't be able to see her lip tremble as she spoke. The fear, the pain, the emotions were still with her, still fresh in her mind as she looked at Kitty, who had knelt down in front of Jean's seat. She had placed her hands on Jean's knees.

"I'm sorry,"Jean managed to say in a whisper, sniffing again and swallowing. "I'm just ... worried about Kurt," she excused her weeping behavior, though even Kitty would be able to see that if Jean was crying for Kurt, then either she was lying about something, orshe knew something bad that Kitty didn't.

However upsetting Kurt's situation was, Kitty couldn't help but feel it wasn't the cause of Jean's tears. The redhead had never let her tears loose so freely like that, as though she hadn't known she was crying. Before Kitty could dwell on it any more at that minute, Jean spoke.

"I didn't get a look at his attackers," the telepath answered Kitty's earlier question. "He never looked at them, I only saw their feet." _I only saw their feet just before they kicked Kurt in the head . . ._

Kitty leaned forward, studying Jean with her concerned blue eyes. "Jean, what aren't you telling me?"

Jean shook her head and took away her hand, feeling stronger again. "No, it's nothing, Kitty. I was just thinking about the 'ifs' of last nights, that's all . . ." Lying usually didn't work well for her, but she pulled this one off flawlessly.

Kitty nodded understandingly. When the older mutants get upset, it was usually for a very good reason, and it mostly meant that the younger ones should be worried too. The valley girl felt only slightly better.

* * *

Hank taped up the last dressing he had to do, and felt grateful Kurt was asleep. Pulling off bandage tape that was stuck down on fur wasn't the tickly feeling people made it out to be. He should know, he had a few bandages taped to his own body before. The Beast glanced up at Kitty, who had now replaced Rogue in her seat by Kurt' left side. The Goth had been relieved of 'staring' duty to get a better break, and Kitty had been pretty insistent that she take over.

It must have been an hour ago since Professor X's explanation of Kurt's attack, and Hank had not seen anyone except Kitty, Rogue and Jean. Storm had been present for a late breakfast in the kitchen, and then had disappeared. Her usually neat, brilliant white hair had been a bit on the untidy side, and her sharp features slack, so Hank guessed she had taken another well-deserved rest.

Kitty moved behind him and he glanced over his shoulder to see her leaning her arms on the edge of Kurt's bed. She rested her chin on them and continued to watch her best friend. Her eyes were clouded, though, and she was obviously lost in her own world.

Twenty minutes later Jean walked into the room with silent footfalls, unnoticed to the occupants. She glanced from Kitty to Hank McCoy and then at Kurt, who was in exactly the same position he had been put in last night. The redhead moved over to the younger girl as Hank was occupying himself with something across the room on a small table. Jean placed a hand on Kitty's shoulder, startling her enough to lift her head from her arms.

"Hey, do you want me to fetch anything?" She asked softly. Then smiled and added, "A book?"

Kitty smiled and shook her head, bangs and ponytail swaying with the motion. "No thanks." She had plenty of thoughts to read. "Where's everyone?"

"The new recruits decided to watch a movie," Jean said, sitting down next to Kitty on the edge of the bed, clasping her hands between her knees. "They usually go out at weekends, but even they said they didn't feel like moving. I haven't seen Miss Munroe all day, or Logan . . ." Where had Logan disappeared to? He hadn't been in the briefing room, or in the kitchen at breakfast. Jean found herself smoothening out the white bedcovers while Kitty stared at them.

"Where did Scott and Evan go?" Kitty asked, remembering their departure after Professor X's meeting.

"They went to check out the streets," Jean answered, "to see if they could hear anything about an attack on a mutant."

Kitty's features darkened and her eyes narrowed. "That's easy," she said, her tone bitter. "Just listen out for the word 'demon' and you've got your lead . . ." she glared at the sheets. A small feeling of guilt flared up inside her chest. She remembered the day she had first been introduced to Kurt, and had used just that word in front of him. His expression, already ashamed,had fallen even more and he had teleported away from her. The guilt increased with a sudden jolt. She had not been used to seeing different things, she hadn't been expecting someone blue and demon like in appearance. Oh how she regretted reacting like that towards him. Even afterwards she had been cautious of him – but now, there was a big change. She was his best friend, she loved him as friends do; she found the ears, the tail, the fur and fangs cute. He wasn't a monster; he was special, and Kitty had learned to realize how lonely he was in the world. If only there was a way to make other people see through his eyes . . . he would probably gain every sympathy in town,and people would know what it was like to be treated different . . .

"Kitty?"

The valley girl blinked and looked up. She was facing not Jean, but Rogue. Kitty glanced back at the doorway before turning again to the Goth.

"Where's Jean?" Kitty asked as a small frown creased her brow.

"She left a minute ago," Rogue answered in her southern accent, frowning slightly herself. Her makeup was not so thick today, making her look somehow less pale than usual.

Kitty blinked and realized she must have been thinking for a while. She didn't need a book to read, that was for sure; if thinking passes the time like that.

"Ya c'n go if ya like," Rogue spoke again, sitting herself in the same spot Jean had last been seated. "I'll stay here."

"No, I will too," Kitty said, looking back at the motionless face on the pillow in front of her. "I'll just grab something to eat and be back." She stood from the chair, turned and walked out, noticing that Hank had disappeared too. Probably to get a break, Kitty thought. He had been working hard on Kurt, he needed some time off.

Rogue watched the ponytail sway out of view and then turned back to the bed, sliding off it onto the chair, which was still warm from Kitty's body heat. She leant an elbow into the white fabric and rested her head on her hand, drumming the fingers of the other on the sheets and stared at them.

She started drifting away in thoughts, trying to think why someone would do so much damage to a teenager. Just because he looked different? Maybe, maybe not. And when they found the attackers, Rogue would be only too happy to beat _them_ up. She thought, just then, about having the chance to touch one of them with her bare skin. She would be able to find out why they had almost killed her brother . . .

Rogue lifted her eyes from the sheets to the blue face sleeping soundlessly before her. She noticed a corner of tape was sticking up from a strip that was holding down the bandage on his forehead. She reached over and gently pressed it back down with her gloved hand, smoothening it over his fur. She remembered clearly how Kitty had said one time that Kurt's fur was so soft, and felt bad she couldn't feel for herself. Rogue moved aside a strand of his blue hair and flattened down another curling corner of white tape.

Kurt's brow twitched and he let out a soft, barely audible groan. Rogue froze, her hand hovering over his forehead. The blue elf remained quiet and still once again.

"Kurt?" Rogue spoke quietly, pulling back her hand. She mentally put herself in his position – if she was waking up from his condition then she wouldn't be able to hear someone whisper her name that quietly. She raised her voice. "Kurt?"

Hislips partedever so slightly and his chest rose a little higher as he took in a breath. His eyebrows moved again, giving his blank features some expression. Expression of pain, Rogue saw.

The heart monitor had quickened its pace very slightly, but Rogue didn't even hear it.

Kurt's chest rose again in a gasp as the pain of his injuries met his awakening mind. His body was aching badly, and there were sharp throbs from his stitched wounds. His eyebrows were tugged in and pulled higher on his forehead, expressing his agony. Confusion had flooded his brain. He didn't know anything except what had happened to him. There were strange, pulling sensations around the many pains, and he could only guess they were bandages.

"Kurt," Rogue said again, half standing off her seat. "Kurt wake up, please . . ."

He knew that accent. It was Rogue. Where was she? There was an uncomfortable buzzing in his ears that made it seem as though her voice had come from the back of his mind. He tried to focus but that only caused a headache to pound unmercifully. _Make zuh pain stop . . ._ he groaned in his head. He felt something take hold of his left hand and squeeze it gently. Rogue . . .

"Ro . . ." He managed to whisper in a dangerously weak voice. He swallowed, wincing as his throat screamed in pain. He felt sick, but he wanted his sister . . .

Rogue's eyes flickered about across his face, waiting for him to wake up fully. She understood he was obviously still in pain, but it was taking him too long to even open his eyes, and he looked and soundedso veryweak.

"Yeah, it's me, Kurt," she said, assuring him she had heard. She wanted to help him wake properly, but she couldn't.

A small whine rose from his throat. He tried to say something else, but all that came out was his breath.

Rogue realized he was trying to talk before he was strong enough. This might be a slow awakening, but she'd rather he wait for some strength to returnbefore he strained himself. The Goth reached over and very gently rested her hand on his forehead.

"Shh, Kurt don't talk," she commanded softly. "Wait until you're strong enough." Even if that was all day she would wait with him. She started rubbing her thumb over his fur comfortingly, hoping he felt calmed by her action. She wasn't the best at soothing people.

Kurt's attempts to form words slowly stopped and his expression relaxed only slightly. He remained still, taking in air, trying to rid his nausea and find the strength to open his eyes. The rubbing on his forehead seemed to loosen the pain around there, and the sensation felt nice. But the rest of him still ached, and he would have done anything to get rid of it. His mind suddenly pulled him back to that night he had met his attackers. How long ago was that? It seemed like ages ago, but the throbbing pain made it seem only a few hours had passed. No – he didn't want to go back to those thoughts – let him forget, he didn't want to speak of it. Let him just find the strength to open his eyes and see his adoptive sister – and to say he was sorry . . . sorry for letting this happen, sorry more causing them pain over him, sorry for looking like this, and pulling everyone backwith his appearance. . . he hated himself . . .

Something small leaked from his eye and traveled down his temple.

Rogue's heart wrenched at his tears. Why was he crying? Was it his pain? What was he thinking . . . ? She squeezed his hand again and used her other to softly wipe away the teardrops.

"Don't cry . . ." she whispered, returning her hand and massaging his forehead again. Just that small action made her feel a little bit closer to him.

He swallowed and winced again at the sore feeling. He knew where he was now. The soft material beneath him was obviously a bed and, trusting his nose, he smelt the antiseptic air of the infirmary. Of course, he wouldn't exactly be anywhere else, they couldn't take him to hospital . . .

"I'm sorry . . ." he whispered suddenly, using the little strength he had to speak.

Rogue stared at his face, her lips parted as she wondered why he had said that.

"No, don't be sorry, Kurt," she said softly, "this isn't your fault . . ."

He made no other attempt to speak, and Rogue knew he was just too tired. His mouth closed, his expression relaxed, his breathing slowed, and the heart monitor's paced beeping returned to its previous pattern. He was unconscious again.

Rogue watched him for a few seconds and ceased her thumb movements. She reached over, gripped the small, plastic object that hung behind the bed on the wall, and pressed the button. Hank would hear the call if he was in his room or office, and he usually was. He should be here any minute. She just hoped when she told him Kurt had awoke, Mr. McCoy wouldn't give her bad news by telling herit was bad news. . .

The Goth looked back at him. He had only been awake for a few minutes, but that had exhausted him greatly . . . and he hadn't even opened his eyes . . .

The sound of rushing footsteps from the corridor outside met her ears and grew louder. She hoped Hank would tell her Kurt's waking up was a good thing.

* * *

**AN:** Thanks again for reading, hope you enjoyed, and more apologies for the late chapter. Work gets in the way, ugh. I dunno if Kurt DID have his powers when he was almost burned, I just remembered that picture (awesome picture I might add) from the comic 'Am I Blue?' and wrote while thinking of that. Danke and all ;)

**TheDudeLordOfFantasy**: Thank you so much, I'll fit the proper medical terms in when I can, don't wanna confuse anybody, lol.

**DemonRoge13**: Thank a lot, ;)

**Kurrygirl**: What wud the X Men _be_ withoutKurt? No way can they loose him, he's waaay to valuble ;) and waaaay too cute

**ManniElf18**: Yeah yeah, you'll get questions answered, lol, soon...

**Snitter**: Lol, thank yee very much, I actually started out without a clue where I wanted this to go; now I do ;). I didn't know if it wud be a gud thing or a bad to bring other characters into center attention since it's meant to be about Kurt, but Scott was fun to write. There's so much more to him than just the 'fearless leader' image. Lol, the Rogue nd Kitty chair-sharing thing I imaged only to happen because Rogue fell asleep first ;) but hey, they're roomies, they gotta be gud friends.

**ToiletDuck85**: Hehe, I have the story behind Kurt's attack worked out ;) just wanna find a nice place to put it so y'all can stop guessing. Thank ya

**Pointyearsrule**: Sorry for the short and late chapters, I usually write a lot longer. Nice to hear you're dying of suspence, z'wat I was aiming for ;) lol evil laugh


	5. Just What Happened?

**To Live To Suffer**

Just What Happened?

**

* * *

**  
"It was a little sooner than I would have expected," Hank said, walking around the bed to check the EKG instrument that continued to beep in rhyme to Kurt's heart pattern. "But it's a good sign. It shows his body found the strength to wake." He gave a slight adjustment to the IV drip wire that was taped into the younger mutant's hand. "Perhaps he has a better recovery system than I predicted." He let out a thoughtful 'hm' through his closed lips as he stared down at the blue teen asleep on the bed. 

Rogue's heart had returned to its normal pace. For a horrible moment she thought Hank was about to tell her something serious a few minutes back, like Kurt had fallen into a coma now. But she was very relived to hear he was mending quicker than the 'doctor' thought.

Behind the Goth, the resident redhead smiled. "That's the first good news I've heard this weekend," Jean said wearily. She had been on her way to the infirmary just as Hank rushed past. Her heart had leapt in a terrible feeling, fearing something bad. But she felt incredibly relived now she knew the reason Hank had been called in to the room.

"Hopefully not the last," Kitty spoke, stood next to the older girl. Having received Jean's telepathic message about the news, she had raced down there as fast as she could phase.

Hank smiled. "I doubt it will be the last. Kurt is recovering, but I don't want to be any less careful until I'm certain there will be no more threats." His smile wavered as he looked at the biggest dressing covering Kurt, on his chest. Jean knew that was one of the few that were infected, and would take the most time to heal. And the most energy. Even with the help of the antibiotics Hank was injecting Kurt with.

A humming followed Hank's words as the sounds of a wheelchair arriving entered the room. The four mutants turned to the Professor as he stopped just beside Jean. Taking his hand off the wheelchair controls, he laid it on the armrest and glanced at everyone.

"I gather this is good news," he guessed with a trace of a smile; good news for this situation deserved one. From the lack of usual fear in the room, he could only assume he had been called down to be told something good.

Hank's smiled returned. "Indeed, Professor. However early it may seem at this time, Kurt actually woke a few minutes ago." He paused a second to view the professor's reaction, who smiled, before continuing. "It may have cost him a little of the strength he needed to heal, but it's a step in the recovery direction at least."

Everyone was smiling slightly, except for Rogue. Her expression seemed blank, but with a closer look she seemed sadly puzzled. Professor X took note of it before wheeling up to the bedside, on which Kurt lay silent and motionless; apart from the gentle rise and fall of his chest. He still looked exactly as he had when Charles had fist been allowed to see him after he had been patched up: an upsetting sight to see. The good news didn't seem to reach his appearance; he still looked as though he was at Death's door.

With probably the most powerful telepathic ability in the world, it was always tempting to look inside a mind that needed help. Staring down at Kurt now, Professor X wanted to know just what was going on inside his head, what had gone on inside his head . . . but of course the Professor would never poke where he wasn't invited. He wanted to reach in and comfort the boy, to assure him he was recovering, to find out what happened to him and help him. He could sense a troubled mind without even pushing into his head, and as a teacher and a fatherly figure, it was difficult to restrain his urge to enter Kurt's mind and calm him. The Professor felt so frustrated knowing he had the power to help, but bound by his promises never to do anything of the such without permission. Was this an exception? Kurt needed someone at this time, and he was unable to ask for it . . . Charles' own mind was quite often flooded with these confusing questions. But he would never show his uncertainty to his students. What kind of teacher would he be then?

"I'm hoping Kurt will wake properly tomorrow," Hank was saying. "It'll probably be for a few minutes, but I'd be pretty sure he'll recover with no problems."

Professor X sat back in his chair and nodded at the beast of a man. Hank had been working very hard, and even with all the breaks he had been having, Charles thought he deserved another.

"Hank, why don't you take an hour or two away from the infirmary," the Professor said, "you've beenmore helpfulthan we could haveasked, but I'd hate to keep you in here any longer."

Hank smiled and gave his blue furred head a nod. "Yes, I think I will. Thank you, Professor." A few hours of relaxing would be nice, and since Kurt seemed to be doing fine, he didn't have to worry too much.

Before leaving, Hank checked the instruments Kurt was hooked up to, placed a few things in a draw at the end of the room, tidied a few papers and left the room with a surprising silence for someone so large.

Professor X turned to the oldest female mutant in the room. "Jean, if you don't mind, would you check on the New Recruits and see to it they aren't destroying the Mansion?" He asked. "Then perhaps you might be able to track down Logan in town. I believe he had the same idea as Scott and Even."

Jean nodded, her red hair spilling over her shoulders as she did so. "Yes, Professor," she replied, with that ever-present respect in her voice she and almost everyone else used when talking to the telepath. She turned and disappeared out of the room in Hank's wake.

"Mr. Logan's gone searching for clues about Kurt's attack, too?" Kitty asked. "Do you think they could find anything? I mean, it's not like people are shouting out 'mutant' in the streets . . ."

"It's possible, Kitty," Charles said. "Logan has a knack for finding things he's after, and Scott and Evan can be stubborn when they want. I doubt they'll give up easily without hearing something." He turned his wheelchair to the girl. "Would you find Miss. Munroe for me, Kitty, and ask her to prepare dinner if she wishes, I'm quite hungry, and I suspect others are too."

"Okay. I can, like, help out," she said with a small smile, the valley-girl accent having brokeen through again. Missing the groan from Rogue, Kitty glanced at Kurt before turning to the door and walking out.

The Professor hadn't seen Storm either, but if she was missing from sight, she was usually tending to her plants in the attic, or talking a slow walk around the grounds. She enjoyed the outside. Kitty would know where to find her.

Turning back to the bed on which Kurt lay, and to where Rogue sat on the opposite side, Charles Xavier leveled his eyes to hers. Asking Hank, Jean and Kitty out of the room may have been for nothing, as they might have heard what the Professor wanted to hear from Rogue, but he preferred these conversations about someone else without an audience.

"Now, Rogue," he started softly, knowing she already knew what he was going to ask. "How did Kurt seem when he was awake?" Professor X was curious to know. He knew she wanted to talk about it, because she was feeling confused. And the Professor wanted to know why.

Rogue held his gaze. ". . . Ah don't know," she said quietly. "Ah mean, he was too weak t' talk." She glanced back down at Kurt's face. "But he seemed sad . . . he apologized t' me, but ah don't know what for . . ."

The Professor's brow turned down in a small frown. "He apologized?" He repeated, and Rogue nodded. Charles sat back in his chair, leaning an elbow on the armrest, and his chin upon his hand. "Something upset him enough to let someone attack him," he guessed, "When he awoke that's probably all he remembered . . ." He imagined Kurt's voice in his head, echoing the words 'I'm sorry', and tried to guess why he would say that. But then Kurt had always been apologetic to even the smallest of things. Still, Professor X couldn't help thinking he meant more than just sorry for his condition.

Rogue didn't reply to his assumption, she merely watched the older man as he thought, letting the silence envelope them. Only the heart monitor made any noise with its steady, continuous beep. Finally, after a minute or so of waiting patiently, Rogue shifted slightly on her seat.

"Professor," she started, "ah know Kurt went through somethin' bad . . . but . . . is this something he could ever recover from?" She glanced uncertainly at the floor, tucking back a strand of white hair. "Ah'm afraid he'll . . . well, blame it on his appearance, and . . . ah don' know, do something . . . bad . . ." In truth she was afraid he might do something more than 'bad'.

Professor X studied Rogue's features for a few seconds, thinking how similar her fears where to his.

"Kurt can recover," he said at last. "But like most traumatic experiences, it'll take time." He paused a beat. "He's a strong lad, maybe more so than most people realize." Professor X leaned forward slightly across the bed. "Kurt's been through a lot more than any of us have in his past, and his strengths pulled him through, allowed him to get on with his life . . . I fear he may have lost those strengths when he wakes up, and its up to us to help bring them back."

Rogue blinked and turned her eyes to the boy in the bed. She could only imagine what he hadgone through before he came to Bayville. He hadn't told anyone of his past, it was probably too painful. And yet he was a light-hearted, fun-loving guy despite certain things that sometime got in the way, despite the fact he could never show his true self to anyone, and that he had to go by a false image. Rogue had always felt isolated from other people because of her power, but at least she could show her real form – people knew her, not some holographic image. Even Kurt couldn't really touch people, for they would feel his fur, or his three-digit hand. Rogue cursed the life fate had thrown at them.

"I'll leave you, now," the Professor's voice penetrated her thoughts. Rogue looked up to see the man give her a small, departing smile, and then turned and wheeled towards the door. The whine of his wheelchair faded into the corridor.

The Goth rested her elbow on the white sheets and laid her chin on her palm, letting her gaze drift around the room as she sunk into her thoughts. The beeping of the EKG instrument grew fainter as she let her focus slack. She would have found it extremely boring had she been somewhere else, sitting in silence without a thing to do, and perhaps after a while she would here too, but she found she had a lot to think about all of a sudden, and think about them she did.

* * *

". . . Scott . . .Evin . . .'nything . . .?"

"No . . . neith'r . . . 'ogan . . ."

Movement, voices, noises . . . there were people in the room. Was he in a room? Everything seemed a million miles away. Was he in space? The pain and pressure on parts of his body felt like he was. The struggle to breath would back it up.

"Mr. 'ogan . . . find anything? I would . . . 'ought . . . did . . ."

"Yeah, so would I . . ."

They were becoming clearer, they were feminine voices. He could hear more words now instead of an annoying murmur. The noises sounded nearer too, everything seemed to be a bit louder. But the pain was becoming stronger as well . . . it was difficult to hear the voices through the throbbing ach even if they were louder. English was so difficult to listen to when the mind couldn't concentrate . . . what were they saying now? The noises were becoming quieter – _nein!_ They were moving away. What was he doing? Why couldn't he reach out to them, wherever they were? Why couldn't he call to –

The memories returned in a painful flash. He couldn't talk because he had been beaten into a bloody pulp, and was obviously bedridden. Was he unconscious? Conscious? Semi conscious? He didn't know – he wanted to know – he felt so distressed . . .

"Nein . . ."

Leaning on the bed, with her chin on her arms, Kitty's ears pricked and she straightened up. Jean and Storm were disappearing down the corridor outside the infirmary, their voices fading quickly as they walked. But Kitty was no longer watching them leave. Her eyes snapped to the face on the bed.

Kurt's lips barely formed another soft "Nein," and his brow was creasing together in pain.

Kitty's heart leapt. She sat up higher, watching her best friend struggle to wake. His blue face, framed by his darker hair, was beginning to twist into an expression of discomfort and confusion. The gauze bandage tape pulled at his fur on his forehead, and the scar across his nose was stretched ever so slightly.

Kitty quickly looked back at the corridor, intending to call for Storm and Jean. But her attention was brought back to Kurt as, again, he breathed, "Nein . . ." There was no actual voice in his word, it was just a whisper of air passing his lips; but it was enough to pull Kitty's full attention to him.

The valley-girl remembered Hank saying yesterday that he should wake up in twenty-four hours, after Rogue had witnessed his disorientated awakening. It had been only a little more than twenty-four hours, but still Kitty felt worried. What if he didn't remember anything? Her? Himself? _Don't be silly, Kitty_, she scolded herself. _Out of all his injuries he didn't have concussion, so there shouldn't be any need to assume hehas amnesia._

She was arguing with herself; arguing while Kurt was waking. She quickly ignored her inner voice and placed a gentle hand on Kurt's shoulder. Maybe it might help him wake...

His eyebrows twitched as his lips parted again, though he didn't try to say anything.

"Kurt?" Kitty spoke. "Can you hear me?" His eyebrows twitched, as though her words were more painful than anything. "It's me, Kitty."

His open lips formed her name. "Keetty," he whispered.

Kitty's heart jumped again. At least he could hear her. It seemed everything was a struggle for him, but he already woken once – why is it such a job to wake a second time?

"Yeah, I'm here," she responded, moving her hand down his arm to his three fingered one, gripping it softly.

Kurt's eyelids slowly slip up, revealing a pair of very dim, glowing white eyes. They weren't actually glowing, but instead looked a sickly, pale gray color. He had barely begun to open them before he closed them again, squinting.

Kitty watched, unable to do anything else. She was thinking quickly whether to run out and get Storm and Jean, maybe they could help or make it easier for him to wake up properly, but she wasn't going to leave him.

"Ungh," Kurt moaned silently, opening his eyes again though not even half way. He looked worse than when he was asleep, except Kitty now felt better he wasn't. She shouldn't, of course, because nowhe was feeling all the pain.

Kitty remembered the button behind the bed, reached over and grabbed it. She pushed it with her thumb while watching her friend, hoping Hank was in his office.

Kurt closed his mouth and swallowed – which looked difficult – and turned his eyes to Kitty.

"Keety," he whispered again, with a bit of voice behind the effort. He sounded hoarse and dry, and Kitty swallowed as if her own throat was sore.

"I'm here, Kurt," she spoke, moving her hand around his a little tighter. She expected him to smile once he recognized her, that smile he always manages to get in when they're stuck in some bad times. But he didn't. His face remained in a painful expression, and his eyes stared at hers a second longer before blinking and then closing them again. She found herself disappointed he didn't smile, but understanding. She just hoped it wasn't going to be long before she saw his fanged grin again.

He gave a small whimper and his face was pulled into that uncomfortable expression of torture again, as he arched his back. A small gasp escaped his mouth and his eyes opened once again. He was beginning to feel his entire body, and the whole amount ofpain. There was stabbingaches in his back, making him more uncomfortable since he had to lie on it. His fingers slowly flexed, experimenting with their response to his commands, and to feel if any of them were missing. Kitty's hand was clutching one of them, but he didn't react to the gesture. He was trying to concentrate on his tail, wherever it was. He could feel it burning with pain, but he couldn't move it. Another whine rose from his throat.

Kitty pressed the button again, having been gripping it for the past minute.

"I hurt," Kurt coughed, wincing at the soreness of his throat. Kitty started feeling relived he was gaining strength, but bad for his suffering.

"I know," Kitty said quietly, sharing his pain. "But Mr. McCoy'll be here soon, he'll help you."

Kurt's features tightened again, and Kitty thought she saw something small and wet glisten at the corner of his tightly shut eye.

"I'm scared," he whispered.

Her heart jerked at his helpless tone. Why was he scared? She had never heard Kurt say something like that, even in the dangerous situations they some times found themselves in. Kitty leaned closed.

"Why?" she asked softly.

But he shook his head, rolling it from side to side in the grooveof the pillow. Kitty bit her lip, her own brow scrunched upwards. With her other hand she pulled away a few strands of hair that had got caught on the bent corner of the gauze tape on his forehead.

"You'll be okay now," she said. "We're not gonna let anything else happen to you . . ."

The three-fingered hand under hers twisted and weakly gripped back. Kitty managed to pull her lips into a small smile.

Kurt's other hand moved as he tried to raise it. With some effort into it, he managed to bent his arm and put his hand on his forehead. He felt the bandage that was taped down there and wondered if there was one massage bandage on his back, where it hurt a lot.

"I can't – feel my chest," he whimpered. As he was breathing he felt was a tight sensation across his torso, and that burning pain that stung most of his body. It was stronger on his chest, but he couldn't feel the skin or anything . . .

Kitty watched him fidget in discomfort, and glanced at the top of the covers that were hiding his chest. The edge of the large bandage was just visible. She looked back at his face, worrying that there was something wrong with the injury under it.

She didn't know what to say. Kitty sat there looking at him with an aching grief in her own chest. She would do anything to take away the pain for him. Kitty reached over and pressed the alarm button again. Where was Hank? He obviously wasn't in his office or room.

"It's okay, Kurt," she soothed, having nothing else to say.

"No," he whispered. "It isn't . . ." close to tears, he turned his head away from her and closed his stinging eyes.

Kitty stared. Just what had happened to Kurt . . . ?

* * *

**AN**: I'm majorly sorry about the lateness, it won't happen again. I've been caught up in Evo art, wouldja believe. Anyway, I got my writing streak back, and I'll have the next chapter up as soon as possible. I'm working on another Kurt fic at the same time, so my inspiration has no time to disappear, I WILL update sooner than this time. wards away any infection writers block Thank you all who reviewed, hope you haven't given up, lol... echo ...

**TheDudeLordOfFantasy:** Thank yee too much, I love comments like that - I like to imgine stories as episodes, wud be cool, eh ;)

**DeamonRogue13**: Thanks, I'm glad you pointed that out, I hoped it wasn't too drawn out, didn't want it to drag on, but I hate waking character's up too suddenly.

**CarolJ**: Ah the memories, eh, lol. I justed wanted to add a few in there ;) thanks

**Purity** **Black**: Danke, Thankie and merci ;) I really appriciate the comments that say the character's are in character, heh, I'm really thankful y'all notice. The vigilante style hunt for the attackers may happen sometime soon ;)

**ToiletDuck85:** We don't get to see much Kurt and Rogue relationship (sibling I might add), so I just had ta add it. Thank you

**Pointyearsrule**: Lol, no problem, I gotta thank you indiviually, ain't I ;) Hope this chapter was long enough too.

**Snitter:** Yay, a comment about my angsty from one of the angsy queens, lol, bows thank yee. I love writting this stuff, you can go overboard and it just makes it better, lol. I was worried I was leaving Kurt's waking too long... didn't wanna bore anybody. But thanks ;)

**Beezer:** Wow, thank you very much, I'm honored you reviewed for my story. I hope there aren't any spelling mistakes at least, heh. If there are anyone's welcome to point them out - gotta neaten up the story. I'm really happy to hear I can captivate the readers, but sometimes I can go over on detail, and make it just sound too packed, and the reader skips it... so I try to steer away from doing that, but it seems my effort is coming thru, thanks you mucho.


	6. Torment

**To Live To Suffer**

Torment

* * *

It took one more push of the alarm button, and another minute later for Hank to hear. His heavy footsteps, usually quite soundless, thudded along the corridor and into the infirmary. He gave a questioning look at Kitty as he approached the bed, and she turned her gaze purposefully to Kurt. Hank noticed immediately Kurt had moved position, and a second later two small slits of pale, white eyes revealed themselves as Kurt glanced weakly at the 'doctor'. The boy did nothing except close them again. There was a sad expression among the pain on his face. 

Hank felt his heart tug for the elf. He must be going through a tough time at this point.

"Kurt," Hank said, very relieved to see him awake. The larger mutant moved to the head of the bed and bent down to examine his patient. He gently cupped the boy's chin in his huge hands to gain his attention, receiving another pale-eyed look. "How are you feeling?" He asked seriously. He knew of the pain, but there could be something else Hank did not know about.

Kurt didn't respond. He looked exhausted, and he showed no signs of wanting to speak. He gazed forlornly into the other's face, before turning his eyes away and staring distantly at nothing.

Hank glanced at Kitty who looked back sadly, and then returned his eyes. The older mutant fixed his stare on Kurt's, mentally noting the unclear surface of them; how the lights seemed to reflect so dimly on them, instead of from within as they usually did.

"Kurt, look at me," he said softly, injecting a touch of firmness. The boy's eyebrows seem to crease more, and he shut his eyes as if that was the last thing he wanted to do. Hank gave the hand that was holding Kurt's chin the smallest of nudges. "Kurt, listen. Whatever you went through, you're going to get over it. Okay? We're all here for you, but we need you to help us understand." Kurt tried weakly to pull his chin from Hank's grasp, and the older mutant let go. He stared down as Kurt continued to avoid his eyes. "You tell us when you're ready, Kurt," Hank said softly. "We're here for you."

Hank felt he had always had a special bond with the resident elf, being that they were both blue and furry, and misunderstood. He was right in assuming he had, Kurt had taken a lot less time feeling comfortable around Hank when he had arrived than anyone else. Both knew how it felt to be different, both still sometimes felt different from the other mutants. And they both could talk to each other a bit easier about certain things that they would otherwise feel embarrassed about. Hank knew Kurt very well in the time he had been at the Institute, and he knew a lot of the things that could upset Kurt. But nothing as to what could upset him this much.

Hank's expression took on a stronger form of sadness as he watched tears run from Kurt's closed eyes. The younger mutant was very quietly sobbing, trying to bite back the cries. Whatever he was thinking was upsetting him tremendously. Hank reached over with a large hand and gently, wiped away the tears with his thumb. Kurt continued to cry.

Kitty cautiously moved closer, peering with her sorrowful, round eyes at Hank, who returned her expression. The girl sat down on the bed and rested a hand on Kurt's shoulder.

"Kurt," she spoke softly. "Please don't cry."

He either ignored her, or couldn't do as she wished. Tears continued to fall.

* * *

Professor X announced to everyone a few hours later that Kurt had woken, and was physically on his way to mending. The students were glad to hear, and most could relax; but there was still the air of curiousness around the Institute. The new recruits were bold enough to ask if Kurt had told someone yet what had happened to him. The answer: no. 

"It'll take a while, Bobby," Scott told the younger mutant, walking with him into the kitchen from the briefing room. "Kurt's been through something we probably can't imagine . . . I doubt he'd want to talk about it for a long time . . ."

"Scott," a calming, strong voice grabbed his attention from behind. Scott stopped as Bobby walked ahead and turned to the Professor. Charles' took his hand off the control panel of his wheelchair and the machine stopped motion. "I heard you had no success in your search for clues."

Scott let out a weary sigh and shook his head. "No," he said. "But maybe we were looking too early, I mean, if someone was going to boast about their ... actions ... could it have spread so soon after?"

"Maybe not," Professor X answered. "I suppose they would have retreated for the night to catch up on the energy they wasted, and if they were to brag of what they have done, word would spread late the next day." It was guesswork, but the Professor was good at that.

Scott nodded, the corner of a nostril pulled up slightly in sickening disgust, and his eyebrows pinched together in silent fury. If what the Professor said was correct, then their best chance of hearing anything would be tomorrow, Scott decided. It would give plenty of time for something to pass around. In the meantime, he would remain in or around the infirmary.

On his way there, he considered whether he would find anything that could help trace an attacker where Kurt was found, in the woods. It was possible something might have fallen to the floor. _Maybe_, Scott thought. _Doesn't hurt to look_.

He walked around the corridor to face the infirmary door and slowed down, staring through the outside glass. Hank had finally left after remaining in there well after Kurt had woken, and now only Rogue sat at the bedside. He could hear her voice, unclear, but speaking softly to heradoptive brother. Scott stopped, not wanting to interrupt whatever she might be saying to him. He drifted about outside the room for a few minutes before he heard Rogue's voice fade. He looked through the glass. Rogue was unmoving, her head still turned down to the bed. Scott found it a good time to walk in.

"Hey," he said in a soft tone as he entered the room, making his presence known.

Rogue looked up, her green eyes catching his from behind a strand of white hair. "Hey," she replied, and turned back to the bed.

Scott walked around the bed to seat himself on the chair opposite Rogue. He looked down at the conscious blue mutant, who seemed to want nothing more right now than to be anywhere other than there.

"Hey Kurt," he spoke gently. Scott hadn't managed to see Kurt since he had woken, and had only heard of how terrible the younger had seemed. Now he could see for himself how miserable Kurt looked. He neither looked at Scott nor acknowledged him. Rogue stared down at her brother sadly. Scott rested an arm on the bed. "Hank tells us you could be outta here in a few days," Scott tried. Again, no response. But to be truthful, Hank mentioned a week at the minimum after what Kurt had been through.

"Kurt, say somethin'," Rogue begged quietly, watching his face for any change in expression. Scott did too, and noticed how different his eyes looked. There seemed to be no life behind them. Rogue gave an audible breath and sat back in her chair. Then she stood. "Ah'll be back," she told both the boys, and walked silently out of the room.

Scott watched her leave, and his eyes blinked back to the blue mutant. A hundred things that wanted to be said were running through his mind, but none where anything he'd ask so soon after Kurt's return to consciousness. He wanted to hug the elf for being _alive_, but he knew it would be a few days at the least until the pain of Kurt's injuries lessened enough for physical contact.

Scott realized he was chewing his lower lip while he was lost in his decision of what to say to the younger mutant. He stopped his action and watched the rise and fall of the sheets that were pulled up to Kurt's chest.

Finally Scott spoke. "Everyone's worried for you, buddy," he said, trying to sound as casual and as kind as he could. His tone came out more quiet than he intended. "We're all pretty much mystified . . ." He paused. "I . . .I don't want to see the Kurt we know like this. I don't ever. I blame myself for not looking out for my teammates. If anything happens to you guys, I hold myself responsible . . . I see you as a little brother, Kurt. I'm suffering because you're suffering . . ." Scott's eyes had drifted to the floor in the time he spoke. He let the seconds tick by before he said more. "We know you're strong, Kurt." He sounded certain. "We just gotta give you time."

Fresh tears threatened to fall from Kurt's closed eyes, but he found some strength to hold them back. How he hated crying, but he had felt the need to so often in his life. A small part of him knew he should be fighting more to return to his normal self, to dismiss his attacking as a misunderstanding. But a much larger part of him was so torn, so distraught, he could not think of anything but the pain of which he had and was enduring. Pain both physical and mental. It was hard to listen to his friends. But with great difficultly, Kurt tried to take in Scott's words. He tried to fit them back in the sentences they came out as, and then understand them. Scott was truly concerned for him? It seemed too hard at that minute to understand why a normal person would be. Beneath the suffering, he felt some gratitude, as he always had when his friends had stood by him.

Movement to Kurt's right caught his attention and he watched through heavy-lidded eyes as Scott rose to his feet.

"I'll see y' later, Kurt," the older boy said, and began to move away.

"Vait . . ." whispered the weak voice of the fanged mutant.

Scott stopped and turned. That pair of white eyes moved to him as Kurt's head fell slowly onto its side in the pillow groove to face him.

"Don't go . . ."

Scott started at him for a second and then nodded; glad he had asked him to stay. The red shades flashed as Scott stepped back to his chair and lowered himself into it again. He watched Kurt's face as his eyes closed again, and his throat worked to swallow.

"Do you remember . . ." Kurt started to ask, so quietly and heavily accented that Scott had to lean forward. " . . . vhen you vere treated . . . normal?"

Behind the reflection of Kurt in his shades, Scott's eyes blinked, and his brow furrowed ever so slightly. He thought about the question, and flashes of memories appeared in his mind of before he had discovered his power, when he was an orphan. He never thought he was normal, never believed he had a normal life because of his tragic past. But he had been treated the same as all the other orphans, and only now, looking back on those days, did he realized how different he was looked upon by humans.

"Yeah," he replied slowly and unsurely, in a whisper barely louder than Kurt's.

Kurt opened his eyes and looked at Scott. "Vhat does it feel like . . . vhen people aarn't afraid of you?"

Unsure how to answer, Scott sat back, slouching his shoulders and wondering why Kurt was asking.

"I - I guess . . . I guess I never really knew what it felt like, until people feared me," Scott replied, frowning. "But, the feeling wasn't anything different, you were just without the constant stare." Of course there was more to it, much more. What Scott wouldn't give to be treated normal again. But how selfish that sounded when he was sat with someone who had never in his life known what it felt like.

Kurt closed his eyes, and for a few seconds it seemed like he was trying to image how it would feel like to be treated normal, without the aid of a holowatch.

Scott took that time to imagine how it would be to be treated like someone demonic in appearance. Truthfully, if he had seen Kurt for the first time in different circumstances, he would have been afraid too, possibly even viol -

Scott shook himself forcefully.

Finally, Kurt opened his eyes again, but they were not aimed in Scott's direction. "How did you find me?" He asked quietly.

This was something Scott could answer properly. The older teen leant back on the bed and fixed his gaze on Kurt.

"Jean found you," he said softly.

There was a change in Kurt's expression. He seemed to sigh silently, and closed his eyes, as though Scott had given him some bad news.

Scott frowned, but he continued. "She felt your pain, and was able to locate you in the woods." He let the silence take over for a few seconds. "We were all so worried . . ."

Kurt's features seemed to be in strain. He was trying his best to keep from crying, but his mouth parted, revealing his gritted fangs, showing Scott the effort he was using to keep control.

"I zhought I vas going to die . . ." Kurt managed to say.

Scott stared. _I did too_.

He reached over and placed a hand on Kurt's shoulder. This only caused Kurt to look away. His body shook with not sobs, but shivers. Scott bit his lip in worry again.

"I should have . . ." Kurt whispered.

Finding something to say at last, Scott raised his eyes from his hand on Kurt's shoulder to the pointed-eared face. "But you didn't," he said. "You didn't, you weren't meant to." He didn't like Kurt's last words. "You shouldn't have died because there are people here who can and did rescue you, so don't you ever say that again . . ." He stopped speaking, breathing as though he had run a small distance. He stared at his younger 'brother'. Kurt did nothing, and Scott moved closer still. "Kurt," he said quietly. "I don't know what I'm trying to understand here, but whatever you went through, you're not alone, you _know_ that." Asking Kurt what had happened was on the tip of his tongue, but he held it back. He wasn't going to ask. If and when Kurt wanted to say something about it, Scott might not be the one he tells. "We've all been through something difficult, so we can understand anything you tell us, just don't forget we're here, okay?"

Kurt said and did nothing.

* * *

**AN**: Thanks for reading, I'm sure a bit of action will be showing soon... 

**TheDudeLordOfFantasy**: Flawless is too kind a word for my stories, lol. I go back so often to edit stuff I'm surprised people don't think of it as another fic. Thanks too much.

**Badger Luver**: Yeah - Kurt is lovely, nice words, ;) thank you for the comment, all appreciated.

**Xbecbebex**: I'm glad it is sad, I've never been good at getting the right mood to a story. Thanks tho ;)

**TD85**: Hank was probably trying to get drunk, lol, explains his absence. Thanks ya, I hope you update your fic soon, Fuzzy Adventure ;)

**DemonRogue13**: Thanks, I guess some might say it was too drawn out, and others say it wasn't. But there shouldn't be much more boring stuff in the next chapters... hopefully.

**Pointyearsrule**: Yeah thanks, I gotta thank y'all individually ain't I ;) and reviews do put a smile on my face.

**Snitter**: You don't know how glad I am to hear someone saying Professor X's parts are gud. The poor guy doesn't get a lot of spotlight, maybe because people find him a boring character to write. But I had ta add him, even if people find his parts uninteresting. It's not Evo without X, lol. I think Logan shud be showing some time soon ;) Thank yee

**Lleen24**: Thanks, guess I'm not a great writer then, heh. I like stopping chapter suddenly. Buta... usually I update a bit quicker. So, my bad about that.

**CarolJ**: Heh, yeah I didn't know what the hell I was doing with this first when I started, and that was stupid of me. But I got a good story ahead set out for it. Thanks ;)

**ManniElf18**: Well if you liked Kurt waking in the last chapter I hope this one was alright. The other Kurt fic is, um, actually based off a dream, but it's mostly about Mystique and Kurt. It's not finished, but I'll post it as soon as I get a gud couple of chapters dun.

**Amused4ever**: Argh, the grammer, thanks for saying, I'll go back over the story and correct stuff. I can't leave something that cud be better left, drives me mad, lol. I've been busy, but I'll check your story for you, as I sed I wud. Sorry I left it late.

**Smileydudet**: Thanks very much, I'm happy word gets around about my stories ;)


	7. Questions

**To Live To Suffer**

Questions

* * *

"Hey," 

Scott looked up from Kurt's closed eyes, startled slightly. He stared into the face of Jean, who was standing before the bed, the entrance into the infirmary behind. Her long, red hair framed her concerned face, shining under the dim lights.

"Hey, Jean," Scott replied, watching as she seated herself opposite him in the chair on Kurt's left. She glanced at him with a brief smile before turning her gaze back to Kurt's face. Jean, like Scott, hadn't had chance to see the elf before now since he had woken. Compassion and grief was written over her face, and Scott couldn't look at anyone else's suffering. The older teen decided he should leave. "I'm gonna grab a drink," Scott said, standing up and brining Jean's attention with him. "Can I get you anything?"

Jean smiled with a shake of her head. "No, thanks Scott," she said, and her eyes followed his direction as he left the room. Silence returned after he had, and Kurt's eyes opened barely to glance once around the room. They closed as Jean looked back at him.

"How are you, Kurt?" She asked softly, leaning her arms carefully on the bed in case the slightly movement on the mattress might cause Kurt discomfort.

To say she was the telepath, Kurt could have predicted her question easily. For a simple sentence that was usually so often answered, he couldn't think of anything to reply with. Nothing that wouldn't make her feel all the more pity for him, anyway. He chose not to answer.

The lack of response wasn't something likely to come from Kurt, which tugged at Jean's sympathy. But she didn't really expect an answer, he had probably been asked the question by everyone else and was fed up with it.

"Is there anything I can do for you?" She asked, wondering whether he had been given anything to eat or drink yet. She was no doctor, so she didn't know when a person could eat after a serious accident such as this. She had been _told_ what to do when she, Storm and Hank were patching Kurt up.

His pale eyes opened and looked away from her. "No," he answered quietly. His voice was stronger now, but the effort to raise it was still difficult. He would have asked her to take the pain away, but he knew no one could do that.

Memories suddenly flashed in Jean's mind, playing before her open eyes. Memories that weren't hers. She blinked, trying to rid herself of them, and turned her eyes back to her friend. Questions she wanted to ask followed the images, and she opened her mouth to speak, but closed it almost straight away. She couldn't ask Kurt what had happened to him, she just couldn't. He would have to tell her or the others in his own time. But . . . she hadn't come down here to ask him small things and to be a nuisance.

"When . . . when I found you," Jean started, forming her next words twice before adding sound to them, "I saw, I – I mean, I _felt_ your pain . . . so I _know_ what you're going through, Kurt." Her hand moved, hesitated, and the reached down to grasp his three fingered one.

Kurt's eyes blinked, still aimed away from her. "You saw . . . everyzhing?" It wasn't actually a question. He knew.

Jean nodded slowly, as though too fast a nod would upset him. He wasn't looking at her, but his elf ears could pick up the movement of her hair being pulled against her back, and the cascading strands over her shoulder draping on the bed. His eyes closed, and the same expression of bad news he had worn in front of Scott only minutes ago was back.

"I'm sorry," Jean whispered, watching his face. More flashes of images that weren't hers invaded her mind. They were random, and they had been popping into her head ever since she found Kurt. They were what popped into _his_ head every day.

This was one of the worst things Kurt feared since arriving at Xavier's Institute and discovering mind-reading mutants. He was scared that they would enter his mind accidentally, and find out about his horrifying past – one which he didn't ever want to go back to, nor let anyone else. But Jean, as a student, had shown control over her powers, and there was no questioning Professor X's. He had begun to feel safe around them instead of frightened . . . but then to save his life Jean had read his mind, and his fear returned. His past, what he wanted locked away, was reopened.

Jean squeezed his hand while the quiet of the room settled around them. Kurt seemed to want nothing more than to disappear.

"Jean – please don't tell anyvon –"he began quite suddenly and a little desperately, turning his head to her as he spoke. New aches and pains seared about his limbs and injures as he moved.

"I won't," Jean assured him, knowing he was about to ask her before he actually did. "I won't." She lifted her hand that held his, and wrapped her other one around it, smiling. "I promise," she said softly, staring deep into his eyes. He reached over with his free hand and placed it on hers, the IV drip taped into the back rested over him from the stand. The corner of his mouth tried to pull up into a smile, but Jean could see he was struggling to hold back his tears. Tears of gratitude. Her promise made a lot to him.

She held his hands for a few seconds before she slipped one of hers from under his and moved it to his forehead, using her fingertip to softly pull back a few strands of blue hair to lay with the rest of his bang.

"You should get some rest," she spoke in a soft tone, laying his hands back down. He looked tired, and she knew he would be, having woken an hour ago after a serious accident.

Kurt blinked sleepily, aware of Jean's hand now resting gently against the side of his head. His body felt warm from exhaustion, and his eyelids, he noticed now, we hard to keep open.

"You von't leave . . . vill you?" He asked in a voice barely louder than a whisper. He wanted company now. Suddenly, he didn't want to be left alone.

Jean smiled, tilting her head. "No," she answered. "I'll stay right here."

Her words only just made it through Kurt's ears before his eyes, already half open, closed completely. His expression relaxed into something so innocent Jean's smile faded in surprise, and his breathing slowed down. She continued to stare at his face. He seemed to be so peaceful now, as though he was unaware of his injuries and everything else. He looked more like a broken angel, than the demon he was always first thought to be.

"Can I come in?"

This time it was Jean who was startled. She twisted in her seat to find Scott stood within the doorway, holding two purple mugs.

"Yeah," Jean answered as she turned back around.

Scott walked in and held out a mug to her. She took it, and the sweet smell of chocolate rose to her nose. She cupped it in her hands, letting the warmth of the mug heat her palms.

Scott had perched himself on the edge of the bed, half standing half sitting, "How's he doing?" He asked, holding his mug much the same way as Jean.

She wanted to say fine, mostly because she had gotten a different response from Kurt than anyone else. But thinking about the reason why wasn't anything good, so she said with a sigh, "Pretty much the same."

Scott let a second or two pass before he changed the topic. "It seems Logan had a bit more luck with the search than me and Evan," he said, staring down at his cup as Jean looked up at him. "He told Professor X it –"

"– was like followin' bread crumbs," Logan finished from the doorway in his rough voice. Both the teens spun around to look at him, and Logan allowed a smile to play on his lips as he walked further into the room. "Bread crumbs that don't end," he added.

"But you found something?" Jean asked.

"A few mentions of a fight with a demon," Logan answered. "I musta interrogated half the teenage population, and no one knew who started the rumor." The muscular man looked between Jean and Scott at Kurt. "How's the elf?"

Having already answered the question, Jean allowed herself to slouch slightly in her chair and say, "The same."

Logan watched the blue mutant sleep for a few seconds before looking at Jean. "How's about you use that brain of yours t' find our attacker?"

"I can't," Jean said at once.

"Look, the Professor won't give a damn if it's helping out somethin' like this," Logan began, his voice rough but soft.

"No, I mean . . ." Jean interrupted, and lowered her head. "I promised I'd stay here . . ."

Logan understood. He nodded once, and watched the redhead turn her gaze to Kurt's unconscious form. Scott followed her stare, his shades flashed as his head turned.

"What about _after_ the promise?" Logan asked, turning his eyes to the bed as well. "You think people who did _this_ –" he indicated Kurt " – deserve the privacy you and Charles think everyone should be entitled to?" He let his words linger as hers and Scott's eyes continued to remain on the face of their unconscious friend.

"Alright," Jean spoke finally, in a quiet voice. She hadn't actually disagreed with Logan's idea in the first place.

Logan put a hand on her shoulder, turned, and walked out of the infirmary.

* * *

"What exactly did Logan hear?" Evan asked curiously, as he stood up after a roll, coming to stand beside the team leader. "About the attackers?" 

Scott let a crimson beam of light explode from his visor to destroy an advancing mechanical arm. The Danger room session has been running for only a few minutes.

"Nothing," Scott answered, turning his visor towards another approaching threat. Once it was blown out of Kitty and Rogue's way, he looked at Evan. "That's just it. He didn't hear anything about the attackers. He only followed the odd conversation with 'demon' in them." Scott began running to their destination across the huge room with Evan at his heel.

"So, basically – " Evan began as he took a dive over a flash of metal that tried to take his feet from under him "– we're still clueless? We don't know anything new about –"

"Watch out, Evan!" Kitty called as she leapt to him, grabbing his arm and phasing him through a blaster shot that would have stung like hell had it hit him. A meter away, Scott was spinning on the spot, blowing up a wave of attacking orbs that were cannoned at him. He lengthened his optic blasts to hit the swarm aiming for Rogue a few yards away, who dodged the ones that didn't shatter. The few that survived shot for Jean, and flew apart after colliding with her metal shield.

"So where did the fire come from?" Evan spoke again, stood straight and ready for more attacks.

"What fire?" Kitty asked, standing with him, feet parted in a good, strong stance.

Evan bunched his right fist, and a bony spike protruded through his skin. He fired it at a small mechanical 'mouse' that was heading towards him. The purpose of these was to trip the students up, which meant they would beinjured, and be in the other mutant's care. Evan's spike nailed it just off center, and it exploded. He rubbed his arm instinctively. It stung faintly to have bones shooting from the skin.

"Where Jean found Kurt," he answered Kitty, back to back with her now. "Scott told us where he was and mentioned fire."

The sound of Scott's optic blasts split the air not a meter from his ear, slicing a hovering orb in two.

"There were small flames burning here and there," the team leader told them as he stepped nearer, looking elsewhere, hand ready next to his visor. He straightened and paused for a second to think about the source of the fire. "But I don't know where they came from . . . maybe Kurt's attackers were trying to frighten him with it . . ." His defensive position was lose now as his mind wandered, his hand left his temple. "Kurt never did seem to like fire . . ."

"No," Kitty spoke, almost solemnly. "He told me he didn't." She pulled back her focus in time to put her powers into Go, and a speeding silver orb flew right through her.

Jean stood away from them next to Rogue, listening whilethey evadeda series of attacks. Kurt's memories flashed though her mind once more. The fire that seemed to cloud his entire vision burned behind her eyes. She could still feel his fear of being consumed by it. Rogue rolled to her feet and frowned at the other's lack of concentration.

"Kurt did suffer from minor burns," Jean spoke before should could hold her tongue, bringing her shielding power to block a paintball that would have 'killed' her. "Along his back. I think those people who attacked him tried to burn him . . ."

Kitty's eyes shimmered with renewed pain, while Evan stared and shook his head disgustedly. Scott kept his gaze on his redheaded friend, as Rogue's watched the back of Jean's head and glanced at Scott, the session momentarily forgotten. Then,as though a button labled 'play' was pushed, everyone returned to animation and their session continued.

Professor X observed from the control room, half focusing on his students below. His mind was drifting unintentionally to the time yesterday when Kurt had woken up, still worried for him. With a little effort, he shook away his thoughts for now.

The door behind him opened, and in walked Storm, white hair flowing behind her, cape flapping with her steps.

"How is he?" Professor X asked without turning around as the woman stopped by his side and stared down into Sunday's first session.

"He's fine," she informed him. "A little stronger today. Hank is keeping him company, and trying to get him to eat." Storm turned her head very slightly in the Professor direction, her eyes taken off the action briefly. "I've never known Kurt to refuse food before."

"I predict we'll be seeing a lot of the Kurt we don't know," Charles spoke after a second.

An hour passed and the session ended. The thick, heavy steel doors into the Danger Room opened and out walked the team, uniforms ruffled or smoking.

"I got dibs on the shower," Evan mumbled tiredly, dragging his feet as they walked down the corridor to the elevator. "Man, I'm so used to hearing Kurt beat me to it . . ."

No one replied, but they glanced in his direction. Rogue hit the button that would take them up after everyone filed in the elevator, and the doors closed, rising to the levels above.

* * *

"Kurt, just take a spoonful," Hank tried again in his soft voice, only to be met with the same refusal since the morning. Kurt had no appetite. The older blue mutant sighed and let his hand drop onto the bed, the spoon clinking against the bowl edge.

"Is he even allowed to eat?" Rogue asked as she walked in the infirmary with Scott. They stopped and stood beside the beast of a man.

Hank sat back with his eyes on Kurt, who avoided them. "Well, technically he can't _eat_ anything. Nothing solid. But I liquefied some nutritious foods that his system can breakdown easily." Hank said. "Trouble is just _getting_ it in his system. He won't take anything." Hank propped the bowl upright on the bed so it wouldn't fall over, and stood up. His eyes continued to stare down on the younger boy with a soft frown. "And if he doesn't, I'll have to feed it through an IV."

"We'll try, Mr. McCoy," Scott said quietly, placing a hand on the bigger mutant's shoulder blade. Hank left silently.

"Hey, Kurt," Rogue greeted carefully, seating herself on his right side.

"Man, Kurt," Scott started as he lowered into the chair opposite, "you're lucky you're missing these Danger Room sessions." He tried to lighten the mood, but he failed, because he himself was still trapped in the painful atmosphere of Kurt's accident.

Rogue was tempted to say how much Scott _liked_ the Danger Room training, and how they were somewhat toned down because of the unfortunate incident, but she bit her tongue and tried to smile for his effort.

Kurt merely blinked, his eyes aimed downwards at the sheets a few inches from his pillow. There was an unbearable headache throbbing in the base of his skull that seemed to increase with every word spoken to him. An uncomfortable noise came from his throat, exhaled through his nose. It was barely audible, but his frown spoke the message better. Rogue heard and understood.

"Mr. McCoy couldn't give y' any more painkillers," Rogue told him, "it would 'a knocked y' out."

"I vould . . . prefer zhat," Kurt breathed, his eyes glancing about before resting on Rogue's. He blinked away after a second.

Rogue hesitated. "It'll go," she said softly. "Tha pain will go away soon."

Kurt didn't seem convinced, but nor did he seem anything except distant and sore. His wounds were beginning to start their healing now his body was a little stronger, but they throbbed anew. They would sting every now and then, just suddenly searing with pain for second. He still couldn't feel his tail at all. It was as if it wasn't there.

The silence that had kept its promise by hanging around lately, settled down once again around the three mutants. It felt like a chocking, invisible mist, clogging their throats andobstructing words. Scott suddenly remembered the bowl in front on him, nestled in the bed covers.

"Think you can eat this for us?" Scott asked, picking up the bowl in one hand, and taking the full spoon out of the soupy mixture with the other.

Kurt gave the dish a careless glance. It made him feel sick to think about eating, and he couldn't recall the taste he once had for everything edible. He felt full just thinking about the contents of the bowl. Kurt shook his head.

It was actually quite sad to see Kurt refuse a meal; even a small one at that. His love for food was something no one believed would falter. He sometimes ate more that Scott, Jean, Rogue and Kitty put together in a day – minus Evan of course, _he_ liked to help himself generously, too, (when there was something left after one of Kurt's kitchen raids).

"Well, we ain't leavin' 'til y' finished that bowl," Rogue said, rather less kindly and more of a definite promise.

"I'm not hungry," Kurt said in a small voice.

"Yes you are," Scott told him. "If you want to recover then you have to eat, Kurt. Now please, just take some." He held the spoon close enough for Kurt to take into his mouth, but the elf moved his head away. Scott sighed inaudibly. "Kurt –" he began, but Rogue shot him a glance that suggested she should try. Scott closed his mouth, looked down at the bowl and then stretched it over Kurt's body to Rogue's hands. He then stood and announced he was going to look for Jean, and left. He left only because he knew if Kurt were going to eat, he wouldn't have done it in front of an audience. Scott would have felt the same.

Rogue held the bowl in her lap, balanced it assuring, and bent forward to rest her arms on the bed, and lay her chin on her hands. Her face was inches from Kurt's.

"Kurt," she said, lowering her voice, "if y' don't recover from this, from whatever happened, y'll be affecting as all . . . Just because we haven't got y' injuries, doesn't mean we haven't got y' pain. Ah can't stand t' see y' like this, Kurt," she said, softly now, her voice a gentle murmur to Kurt's sensitive ears. "An' ah'm sure y've heard this from the others, so hear it from me. Ah _want_ y' t' get better, y' hear? Ah don't know why y' don't wanna recover, but whatever y' thinking, stop."

Somehow, hearing it from Rogue, and in tones he hadn't really heard her use, it sounded a lot more serious. Kurt felt the control he had managed to gain, slip rapidly, and the familiar prickling feeling behind his eyes joined his discomfort. Tears fell, and before he could stop himself, words that wanted to be said so badly started to fall out.

"Zhey vanted to kill me," Kurt gasped through his weakly restrained sobs. "Zhey vere going to kill me, Rogue." He twisted his body so he could lie on his side and properly bury his head in the pillow. The pain increased triple the amount, and this made his tears flow more.

Rogue was instantly torn at the sight. She placed a hand on the side of his face, smudging the tears with her thumb. She was afraid to hug him in case she touched his bare skin with hers.

"They don't know, Kurt," she whispered, a slight break in her voice where her own control slipped. Tears would be falling if she weren't such a strong girl. "They don't understand . . ."

"Zhey zhought I vas a demon," he breathed shakily, darkened lines of fur patterned his face where salty tears had run. More were retracing the paths. "Zhey zhought I vas evil –" his sentences were broken by short gasps of air. "Because of vhat I did . . ."

Rogue's eyes, narrowing in effort to keep the tears back, flickered back to his face, her expression loosening in surprise.

"What did you do?" She whispered, staring at him now.

But he shook his head in the pillow. "I don't vant to – don't make me – please don't make me say," he begged in breathes, as though he thought she was about to grab him by the shoulders and shake him violently until he answered her. His chest, painful to a point where he could have fainted, shook with his cries.

"Sshh, ah won't," Rogue soothed him quickly, adopting a calmer voice, horrified how he had seemed so afraid of her just a second ago. She rubbed his cheek with her hand. "Y' don't have t' tell me, Kurt. No one is gonna force y' t' do anythin' here."

He swallowed and then gasped for needed air, trying to quiet himself down. Rogue watched silently, patiently waiting as his tears slowed down, and he stopped his hiccupping sobs. A minute was all it took, and Kurt was gently taking in small, short breathes to help calm his shaking body. Tears had stopped, and he looked exhausted.

Rogue gently moved him into his first position on his back. He was so tired he was practically limp in her hands. She sorted his hair and neatened it about his head, then pulled his covers up again. She felt the bowl on her lap again, and remembered what Scott had promised Hank.

"Can y' eat just a little bit?" She asked softly, leaning over him almost. His tired eyes blinked and he shook his head. "Please, Kurt . . . please," she tried.

Finally, closing his eyes, he said in no more than a whisper, "okay."

Rogue gave him a grateful, gentle smile, and lifted the bowl onto the bed. She dipped the spoon in the liquefied food and carried it steadily to his mouth. He hesitated, feeling sick, but reluctantly opened his mouth a small way, revealing the points of his fangs, and let Rogue tip the watery stuff into his mouth. Kurt choked, almost spitting it back out as sickness washed over him. But he managed to swallow his mouthful and the sickness disappeared. Having something in his stomach finally, he realized how empty and cold it was. He took the second spoon a little easier, but his appetite just wasn't there. He managed just five spoonfuls before he refused the rest. Rogue was just glad he had eaten _something_.

She placed the bowl down on the bed and smiled at her little brother. "Thank you," she said, managing the full sentence in her western accent. Rogue brought a gloved hand to her lips and kissed the fingertips. Then she reached down and gently placed them on Kurt's forehead. "Sleep well," she added, as his eyelids closed and his mind fell into slumber. She continued to watch well after he was asleep.

* * *

**AN:** I worked on this chapter every night, and yet it still took ages to upload... what's with time and passing quickly? Anyway, hope you enjoyed, 'cause I did, heh. 

**TheDudeLordOfFantasy:** Heh, thanks for the enthusiasm comments. You always make me smile

**ManniElf18: **Thank you very much

**ToiletDuck85:** Lol, a mute Kurt wud be no fun, how could he expression his suffering.. must have serious suffering, evil laugh

**Snitter:** Thanks, I always liked the interaction between Scott and Kurt in the cartoon, even if there wasn't as much as I wanted, so I gotta have some more later ;)

**Carol J:** Yeah he will eventually get over it, thank you

**Denielle:** Thanks, I will do ;)


	8. Mind Work

**To Live To Suffer**

Mind Work

* * *

_The trees loomed all around, standing tall and dark as though they were menacing figures waiting motionlessly for lost souls. The night sky was just as black, like a suffocating blanket over the forest._

_A gasp escaped his throat as he ran, four inhuman feet pounding on the earth at a pace faster than any two legs. But the pace was slowing, his strength thinning. They had been chasing him for so long now, their shouts and angry cries haunted his elfin ears, always close behind; the glints of black metal catching his sharp eyes as they cut off his escapes routes, as they lowered their guns – _

_His ability to climb things no normal personcould saved his life more times that night than ever before. The trees were dotted with deep bullet holes where they had missed their agile target by inches. How many times he had had to jump up the nearest tree to avoid his chasers and their metal weapons was uncountable. The loud, heart-stopping crack of the shotgun rang in his ears so many times. The feel of splinters hitting his tail or his feet as the wood centimeters from his fur exploded, convinced him he wasn't going to survive much longer. The fear that rushed through every vein spurred him on, pushing his exhausted body to the limit. Adrenaline. Fear._

_And then his body just couldn't run any more. The energy to lift his elongated feet disappeared at last. His own effort to movie ceased, but he continued to tumble._

_The black forest floor spun, the trees whirled about, gravity was from nowhere and suddenly from everywhere. And just as quickly, it stopped. Pain shot up his foot; aches attacked his limp form; and unbearable throbs beat unmercifully at his limbs. His chest heaved as he gasped for air; his eyes were closed in a desperate attempt to become invisible against the black night. He dared not open them in fear ofthe glowbeing spotted. He couldn't move. He was exhausted. He was too scared._

_The shouts became louder. The fear increased. The thumping of their feet against the earth vibrated on his cheek, growing closer._

_The click of a loaded gun . . ._

_. . . Extreme heat surrounded his body, thick air chocked his trembling form, jeers, shouts, cries of anger and disgust – rough, ion-grip hands shook him painfully, rope pulled across his chest so tightly, burning his hand, chaffing his fur._

_Smoke, fear, gasoline, he could smell it so strongly. Hate, anger, horror, he could see it so clearly. He gagged, he cried, he begged and pleaded._

_Heat, incredible heat. Light, dancing light. Fire, crackling wood, burning rope, melting clothes, screaming –_

"Aaahh!" Jean gasped and shot up in bed. Her chest heaved as she stared wide-eyed at her mirror stood on the desk, opposite her bed. Her brilliant red hair was a mass of tangles from the constant tossing and turning. Her clothes were creased and damp with sweat, and her bed covers were untidy and crumpled.

A single beam of beautiful white moonlight shone through a gap in the long curtains, splitting the room's darkness in half.

Jean paid no attention to it. Her hair fell about her head as it lowered, her hands reached up to cover her face, her knees bent towards her body. And her chest shook again as she cried.

* * *

Monday morning was cool and muggy, and a thin but dreary mist hung about the town. It dampened everyone's spirits at the Institute even more so than they already were. None of the X Men wanted to go to school, but they didn't want to be seen missing all at once. 

The Professor agreed on this, but he asked that one person remain off school so they could stay with Kurt. The boy would be feeling lonely, despite what he might try to convince them, and since his attack he had never been left alone by his friends. If they were to disappear, Professor X seemed sure Kurt would miss them, perhaps even feel afraid. His mind was still fragile, and he hadn't even begun to heal mentally.

Kitty stayed. As Kurt's best friend, they usually did a lot together, and this would go well with the story they had both caught a cold. She remained in the kitchen where they had discussed it as the rest of the team trudged upstairs to get ready for school. Ororo stood stirring a pan of soup while distantly staring down at it, Logan was hid behind his morning Newspaper with his usual coffee in hand, and Professor X watched the TV with mild interest.

"Kitty," Ororo said, turning around a minute later as she poured a small amount of soup into one bowl, and the rest into another. "Would you take these down to Mr. McCoy and Kurt?"

Kitty nodded and pushed back her chair to stand up. She took the two bowls as Scott and Jean walked through the kitchen door. Kitty stared at Jean. She looked tired.

"We're leaving now, Professor," Scott announced, one hand around the bag strap on his shoulder. His shades flashed as he turned to Kitty. "We'll bring your homework," he told her.

Kitty nodded, aware the two bowls were starting to warm her hands a little too much. She watched the two older teens leave the kitchen, and walked out after them. Logan abandoned his coffee and paper and followed Jean out of the kitchen.

The infirmary felt empty as Kitty entered it a minute later. That was mainly because Kurt was still asleep, and Hank seemed to want to drop off as well. He smiled gratefully when Kitty passed him his breakfast.

"Thanks, Kitty," he said as she placed Kurt's soup on his bed, balancing it on the uneven sheets. Hank took a spoonful of his own and savored the taste for a second, as though he hadn't eaten in days. Perhaps he hadn't, Kitty couldn't remember seeing him eat at all since Kurt's attack.

"Kurt won't be awake for some time," Hank spoke after a few more helpings. "I gave him a good sedative last night, to help him sleep." He looked up from his bowl. "Believe me, he would never have gotten to sleep otherwise. He should wake in a few hours, so I think you ought to leave his soup in the kitchen and warm it up later."

Kitty nodded and turned her eyes back to Kurt. At least there was no chance for him to have nightmares while he was sleeping. It was the one time he could be peaceful and painless. Kitty let her thoughts carry her away with her eyes on her blue friend.

* * *

School seemed a lot less fun than it usually was. With their negative moods, everything seemed to annoy or upset them twice more than it should. The group trudged about, silent unless spoken to, keeping to their work, and occasionally letting their minds drift. The hours had never been so slow, the classes never so stretched out. Seconds ticked by like minutes, because all wanted to return to the Institute. It felt like they had left Kurt unprotected in some alleyway where anyone could walk into him, even though they knew for certain he was safe. 

A few people asked where Kitty and Kurt were, and Rogue napped unnecessarily at one student to mind their own business. Scott gave her a warning glance and she pouted angrily and steered her gaze away. Jean, Scott noticed, had been the quietest of the four, and he knew why.

When the bell rang to signal the end of the school day, the X team trudged to their lockers where they waited for the last person, Evan, to skateboard down the corridor halls. After almost colliding with someone, they left quickly and squashed into Scott's red convertible. Unfortunately Terran appeared to delay their return home, asking Scott about Chemistry homework. Jean, who didn't need her powers, could tell the girl only wanted to speak to Scott before he left. Terran had a fascination over the team leader than Jean could do without.

Her homework subject turned quickly to other things as she leant on the driver's car door, gazing at Scott with a smile. It was when Rogue announced she wasn't feeling well with a meaningful tone in Scott's direction that they actually managed to shake off Terran and started for the Institute, with Evan spinning his skateboard wheels for lack of anything to do. It wasn't often Evan caught a ride back home with everyone else, but he had told them he wouldn't have been able to focus on his skateboarding tricks.

Scott pulled the car up outside the steps leading to the front door of the Mansion, and let the other three jump out. They headed inside while Scott disappeared around the building to park his car in the garage.

"Man, I'm starving," Evan muttered as they walked into the foyer, dropping his skateboard at the side of the door. No one had eaten much at Lunchtime, and Evan had only drunk three milk cartons. He disappeared towards the kitchen as Jean and Rogue headed for their room to drop off their bags.

Kitty's voice was a gentle drone as Scott approached the infirmary. Her words became clearer as he walked up to the door. She was sat where she usually sits next to Kurt, with her back to the door. Kurt, Scott could see, was awake and listening a little more attentively than before when someone tried to talk to him. A small smile tugged at Scott's mouth, glad there was a change in his blue fuzzy friend. A small change, but at least there was one.

The teenager walked through the door and into the infirmary, and Kitty's voice stopped as she heard his arrival. Her ponytail swung behind her head as she turned to see who was behind her. Her lips, parted in curiousness, closed and smiled when she saw who it was.

"Hi," she said a little brightly, almost like her usual self. "How was school?"

Scott, still holding his backpack, slung it gently on the bed and leant on the edge of the mattress next to Kitty. Kurt's pale eyes watched.

"It was . . ." Scott said, looking for the right word. Behind his shades, his eyes fell on Kurt, who seemed to sense his gaze and blinked away. ". . . quiet." Scott remembered his bag and unzipped a front pocket. He took out a few papers sandwiched by textbooks and placed them before Kitty. "Here's your homework, as you requested," he smiled.

"Thanks, Scott," she said as she flicked through her work.

As she skimmed through the papers, Scott looked back at Kurt. "How y' been, Kurt?" He asked carefully, as though he was afraid it might upset him to speak too casually.

What should have been a whisper came out as nothing more than air as Kurt mouthed the word 'fine' and looked away again. He seemed to want the attention focused elsewhere instead of on him, but he wanted company. Scott sympathized for him.

Something caught his eye in the corner of his shades and he turned and saw Jean stood just out of view outside the infirmary.

"I'll be right back," he said to his two younger friends, and walked out of the room to Jean. She began walking as he neared, and he caught her pace. "So . . ." Scott began, "did you find anything today?"

He wasn't expecting a positive answer, but that was the impression he read from her features.

"I . . ." she said, and then paused, wondering where to start. "I kept picking up broken thoughts, they didn't seem linked to what I was trying to find . . . until one of them mentioned a demon." She walked in silence for a few seconds, her head lowered, her eyes on the floor in front of her. "That was all I managed to pick up." She stopped and turned to him. "Scott, Kurt's attackers are at Bayville High . . . I just couldn't lock on to whose thoughts they were."

Scott watched her out the corner of his eyes as they walked slowly down the corridor. "What were the thoughts you picked up? What were they about?"

Jean thought for a second. "Just personal stuff, one boy kept thinking about his little brother. His brother was ill, if I remember. And his dog . . . called Rolo . . ." she frowned and Scott smiled despite the subject they were here to talk about. "There were a few jumbled thoughts, and then I heard him mention 'demon' . . . wait – I remembering _him_ remembering something . . . about woods . . . Yes . . . he was really steamed about something . . ." she trailed off and after a second of silence shook her head, remembering no more. "Perhaps he was mad we got there before he could finish Kurt off," she added quietly.

Scott's brow furrow in silent anger. It turned to a frown as he looked at Jean. "Did we?" He asked. "We arrived when they were still . . . ?"

The redhead nodded, still staring at the floor. "They saw the X Jet and ran . . ." She looked up into Scott's shades, her face suddenly scared. "What if we hadn't made it in time, Scott? What if we had been a minute too late? They could have . . ." she couldn't finish.

The same thing rolled about inside Scott's head, filling him with fear. Kurt really had been close to death that night. If they _had_ been a minute late, he probably wouldn't have made it . . . Scott shuddered inwardly and wiped the thoughts out of his mind quickly.

"But they didn't," he said as quietly as she had spoken. "We got there in time." His hand found hers and he grasped it gently. "Thanks to you."

She raised her green eyes to his face and smiled. Her telepathy had saved one of her best friends . . . but it also unlocked something in his mind that now haunted them both.

The image of fire flared up in her mind as they walked towards the kitchen. Jean's smile was gone.

* * *

Kitty winced as the bloodied gauze bandage was removed, revealing a deep, horrible gash on Kurt's chest. The fur around the area was red with damp blood that was beginning to harden. His wound was still leaking blood, despite the many stitches holding it together. Hank reflected Kitty's expression as he pulled back the tape as gently as he could. 

Kitty took her eyes off it to rest them on Kurt's face. Hank had given him a light sedative to ease the pain for when he redressed his wounds. The tape pulled at the skin and fur, making it incredibly painful for the elf. Kitty was holding his limp hand as Hank removed the old dressings and replaced them with fresh ones. Kurt's expression was pretty sleepy, and he couldn't move very much. But Hank needed him to be still. The beast of a man usually changed Kurt's wrappings when he was asleep. It made it much easier.

Hank exhaled softly as he examined the wound. It didn't look good, and it was still leaking blood. Kurt's other wounds had stopped bleeding altogether, and were starting the healing process. But Hank was worried about this gnash on the elf's chest. It was going to leave one hell of a scar. But the good thing was, Kurt's fur would hide it pretty well once it had healed and scarred.

Kurt groaned, his brow creased together as Hank did his best to peal the sticky tape off his fur. There was some feeling around his chest after all, but it was nothing except pain.

"Almost done," Hank assured him, taking a clean gauze bandage from its packet and very gently laying it over Kurt's chest. He was quick at taping it back down, and was finished a minute later. Both Kitty and Hank breathed easily as though it was their pain that had been relieved.

"How long will it take for them to heal?" Kitty asked as Hank crunched all the empty bandage packets in his large hands.

The man grimaced as though it was a questionthat heshouldn't really answer. "Well, most of them . . . probably three to four weeks, maybe five." It was Kitty's turn to grimace slightly. "Stitches should come out in about eleven days. Depends how the wound heals."

Kitty looked down at Kurt. His eyes were closed and his mouth parted. He had fallen asleep. Kitty turned back to Hank.

"What about that wound on his leg?" She asked. "You said it was serious."

"Yes," Hank answered. "It was . . ."

"Was?" Kitty repeated.

Hank's eyes found Kitty's face. "His wounds have begun to heal, and even though it's only been three days, they're starting out quite well. I think his leg may be alright . . . but I'm not totally sure."

Kitty felt a smile tug her lips in hope. Both mutants turned to Kurt.

"He's quite a healer," Hank said, sounding a little proud.

* * *

**AN**: He's healing, I tell you! Kurteth will be fine ... well, maybe not fine... maybe a little less than maybe not fine. Well, maybe I'll just shut up and write it so you can find out for yourselves. I appreciate everyone's comments and opinions, you guys have been really nice. So my thanks, as usual: 

**TheDudeLordOfFantasy:** Heh, no nutin' to do with his stepbro. Thank you for the review.

**Denielle:** Thanks, I love adding tons of emotion, tho I can overdo it and it sounds way horrible.

**Zero-Vision: **Yep, poor guy, but what are evil authors for?

**TD85: **LOL, yeah let Logan get hold of them, that wud be so much fun. Thank ya

**Snitter:** Hell yeah, Logan's gotta be in it all the way. Like Prof X, it's not evo without Logan.. um, even tho I haven't added him much so far... but he'll be back. Thanks too much


	9. Hope

**To Live To Suffer**

Hope

* * *

It was a clear, peaceful night. The sky was a calming dark blue, speckled with stars that twinkled like tiny jewels. The trees on the institute grounds were black shadows, merged together by their leaves, though they were anything but scary from behind the window of the kitchen. 

Kurt stared out at the night from his seat on the bay window; his favorite place to watch the moon, which was currently hidden behind a passing cloud. He shifted his position to ease the pain on his injuries, and blinked his glowing eyes; glad the institute was empty.

Empty save for a few.

The door to the kitchen opened silently, and the figure walked over to him.

"Kurt . . . y' shouldn't be outta bed," Rogue said softly, stopping right behind him, stood in her usual gothic attire; the moonlight shining on her black miniskirt. She glanced at his bandaged injuries;certain they had not healed enough for Kurt to be moving about. It had been six days since Kurt's attack, and his wounds were still fresh. Moving around wasn't good for him. "Mr. McCoy won't be happy . . ."

Kurt said nothing for a few seconds, after which he sighed quietly through his nose and looked down from the sky to the windowpane.

"I couldn't stay in zuh infirmary . . ." he spoke quietly without looking at her.

Rogue watched him. Yesterday she discovered that he had sneaked out of the infirmary for the first time to sit at the kitchen's bay window and watch the full moon. She hadn't understood why he would move out of the medical bay when he was obviously still in a lot of pain and still weak. But Kurt could never stay in one place too long, or indeed stay in bed for too long, and so maybe the old Kurt was beginning to show. She _hoped_. He still wasn't talking much, and he seemed worryingly distant. She could tell it hurt for him to even breath with the huge wound on his chest, which had, unfortunately, caught infection. Another good reason for him to remain within the sterile walls of the infirmary.

And still, everyone was mystified at his attack. He had spoken nothing of it, no one had asked, and none of the tracking mutants had found much. It was becoming unbearable within the Institute walls to still be in the dark six days later.

Rogue lifted her heavily made-up eyes from Kurt to the now visible moon. It was a beautiful night.

"Why do y' like t' watch the sky?" She whispered curiously.

Kurt remained motionless, seeming to have not heard her. But his eyes moved over the endless void above, glancing at the big and little stars.

"It's zuh von zhing zhat can't be changed . . . can't be ruined," he answered in an equally quiet voice. " . . . alvays stays beautiful . . ."

They both stared out at the sky, watching the twinkling stars and the bright quarter moon. Rogue took her eyes away from the sight when Kurt bowed his head and tried to stifle a yawn. He was tired. He was always exhausted when it passed eight O'clock now; his body was not strong enough to conserve energy for an entire day.

Kurt grimaced and unintentionally let out a quiet whine. His chest was searing with new pain. His hand lifted to it, but he did not rest it on his wound.

Rogue lifted a gloved hand and placed it gently on his shoulder blade, careful of his injuries. He was only wearing a pair of light-colored pants and a loose, sleeveless white shirt, and she could see the dressings underneath. His clothing had to be baggy so they wouldn't catch his wounds. He flinched slightly by her touch.

"You should get t' bed," she said gently, watching the only eye she could see blink sleepily. He was beginning to tired quickly.

"I think _that_ is a good idea," came the gruff, soft voice of Logan. Rogue started, turning to see him stood right beside her. Kurt looked up, his brows knitting together guiltily. He'd be caught. Logan fixed him with a stare. "What do ya think you're doing outta bed, elf?" His voice, if possible, took on a gentler tone.

Kurt pulled some effort into trying to turn himself around a bit, but decided the action was too painful and remained in his position.

"I couldn't sleep," he started in a weary voice, his white eyes begging for his little night tour to be kept secret.

Logan stared at him, disapproval written on his roughish features. Rogue glanced from one to the other silently.

"You can't much heal out here, either," Logan told him firmly, perhaps a little too harshly.

"I'm fine . . ." Kurt whispered, his face held an expression he never usually uses. He was sad, almost teary eyed, miserable, and half asleep.

Logan's eyes flickered to the gauze bandage on Kurt's forehead. Blood was soaking through it slowly as they spoke. Since he was upright, Kurt's system was running faster, and the blood had seeped past the stitches. It should have healed fairly well by now, but Kurt had managed to rip the stitches apart by accident a few days ago and so it was back to square one for his forehead.

Kurt noticed his gaze and lowered his eyes sadly. Unable to hold them open any more, he closed them, doing his best to remain conscious.

"Yeah," Logan said in a voice that almost equaled Kurt's whisper. "You look it."

"I . . . don't von't to go back to zuh infirmary," Kurt breathed, forcing his tired eyes open. His head was hanging without him realizing, bangs falling in front of his eyes. His body was warm with exhaustion, and his eyelids weighted too much for him to keep them open. He felt something start to run slowly down his forehead

Logan moved over to the counter and tore off a piece of tissue from the box sat there. He returned to Kurt with a scowl on his face and handed the tissue to Rogue as he moved forward and gently picked the boy up, unable to avoid his injuries. Kurt groaned in weak protest like a child, but was too tired to do anything. His limp tail was caught between the backs of his knees and Logan's hands to keep it out the way. Scars still lined the appendage, but it suffered no permanent damage.

"'Fraid you have to, elf," Logan told him quietly, turning around to Rogue. She glanced at him and then lifted the tissue to Kurt's forehead and dabbed the blood away before it could reach Kurt' eye; he was almost asleep.

Logan turned when she had finished and made his way with careful footfalls out of the kitchen. Rogue stared after them with the tissue, alone in the moonlit room, stood by the bay window.

* * *

As Rogue later guessed the next morning, Mr. McCoy was not pleased to hear Kurt had made a trip to the kitchen last night. She was also right in knowing the beast of a man would take precautions, as he had told the Professor that when no one was in the room with Kurt, he would have to inject a light sedative into the mutant to assure he won't move again. 

It also seemed that Kurt's forehead wound wasn't the only one that had bled. Hank had to check all his injuries, and change the ones that had seeped blood. He ended up changing most dressings, and even had to re-stitch a loose thread. He hasn't happy, and neither was Kurt after the extra pain he had to endure.

"I didn't think he'd be able to walk," Scott said distantly, sat at the dinner table the next day eating breakfast. Hank had informed the Professor and the X men that Kurt had taken a trip to the kitchen last night.

"Neither did I," Hank said from across the table, a worried expression on his face. Kurt was his patient and therefore his responsibility, and Hank wasn't going to let Kurt risk any more damage to his wounds. "That and the previous night were the only times I hadn't given Kurt anything to help him sleep." He skewered a sausage on a fork and held it to his eye level, staring at it as he said, "I'll have to sedate him at night times . . . just so he won't put any pressure on those injuries." Hank sighed at his food, still having not eaten it. "He doesn't understand how serious they are . . ."

"You should have told Mr. McCoy the first time Kurt left his bed, Rogue," the Professor said in his gentle but firm tone, as he used his knife to cut into his breakfast. Logan, on Xavier's left, fixed a stare on her too, looking over his newspaper.

Rogue lowered her eyes from Professor X to her plate, sorry for Kurt, and angry with herself for not having told anyone. What if Logan hadn't found out and Kurt had continued night after night to leave the infirmary? The strain and pull on his injuries would have worsened their condition, and it was probable that some might never have recovered properly.

Charles watched her avoid his eyes and turned them to Hank. "I think I'd like someone to stay with Kurt through the nights," he said. "Until he has recovered from his ordeal and until it is safe to leave him."

Hank nodded. "It may make him feel calmer to know someone's there with him. I've gathered so far from my time with Kurt that he feels very insecure when he's under sedation."

"Especially after what had happened," Ororo added, sat across the table from Logan, on Xavier's right. "He will not be feeling safe in one of the places he dislikes most."

Xavier made an agreeing sound. "Yes, which is why I'd like Jean to stay with him tonight."

Seated next to Ororo, the red head lifted her face upon hearing her name. She had only barely been listening to the conversation, but now her full attention was on Xavier.

"If you don't mind," the Professor added with a warm smile. He knew about her nightmares. The nightmares that didn't belong to her. Perhaps it might help her also if she were closer to Kurt.

Jean stared at him for a second as though completely lost, and then seemed to remember what he had asked and nodded. "I'll stay with him tonight."

Perhaps it was jealousy of Jean, or thatRogue felt _she_ should be the one to stay with Kurt,for Rogue lifted her greens eyes and gave Jean a stare.

A minute later, everyone except Logan and Xavier had finished their breakfasts, and helped Ororo take their plates and cups to the kitchen, before leaving to find the rest of the students for a Danger Room session. Hank made his way to the infirmary asXavier and Logan remained eating as Ororo reappeared to take the platters away.

Logan ruffled the newspaper he was reading and folded it up. He pushed his plate forward with the paper and stood.

"I'm off t' Bayville hospital," he informed Xavier in his gruff voice, about to turn and leave. Ororo picked up his plate.

"Why the hospital?" Xavier asked curiously, holding his fork halfway to his mouth.

Logan stopped and leaned forward. He placed his hand on the newspaper and spun it around in front of the Professor for him to see clearly.

"I found a lead," he answered. Turning, he walked out the door and disappeared as Ororo looked over Xavier's shoulder at the small article that caught both their attention.

* * *

"Evan, he's not awake, leave him and let's get going," Scott sighed at the younger boy, standing in the infirmary door with Jean and Kitty. All were dressed in their X-Men uniforms. 

Evan looked back at his friends with his usual smile missing. He sighed and traipsed over to the door from where he had been stood next to Kurt's bed. The blue mutant was still sound asleep, oblivious to everything around him.

"I don't understand why he still hasn't told us anything," Evan said, his tone sounding down and concerned. "It's been a week . . ."

"He's not ready, Evan," Kitty said softly, one hand gripping the other arm loosely, waiting for her teammate. But deep down she was worried too. A week, and not a word from Kurt about his attack. He seemed more and more distant, and he hardly spoke. Kitty was upset that something could ever affect her best friend like this.

Someone walked briskly behind them all from the corridor outside, and the students turned to see Logan approaching. He glanced at them all before fixing his eyes on Evan and Scott.

"Get dressed," he ordered. "You're coming with me."

As he turned away, Scott and Evan glanced at each other while the rest watched them, puzzled.

* * *

"Okay girls, I think that's a session gone well," Hank announced with his usual good-natured tone, as he walked ape-like from the Danger Room. In the control room Storm deactivated the controls and disappeared from view as she took the elevator down.

Kitty followed the blue mutant with her hair smoking and a rather grumpy expression on her face. Rogue and Jean were right behind, brushing themselves off.

"Notice how much easier it was with just as girls," Kitty said, her cheery tones absent but her light joke still retaining its humor. She tilted her head so she could see her hair properly and put out the potential fire hazard on her ponytail.

"Yeah, but Hank didn't go any easier on us," Jean smiled at Kitty's hair. Her smile slowly faded as they walked back to their wing of the mansion to change. Thoughts returned to her, but those she could deal with later, she had plenty of free time today. Saturday.

As they grumbled or thought aloud about things on their minds, a level below them in the infirmary Storm entered still in her uniform, with her cape flowing behind her.

"Any word from Logan?" Was the first thing she asked Xavier as she came to a halt a few feet from his wheelchair.

Xavier smiled negatively. "No, not yet. If there's something to hear, we _will_ hear it, Ororo." He turned from her to look at Kurt. Xavier had offered to watch over the fuzzy elf as Hank took some time out of the infirmary for a good exercise in the Danger Room. The beast of a man wasn't sure when Kurt would wake, and the professor wanted to spend some time with the boy anyway.

Ororo moved over to him, her eyes joining his gaze down at Kurt. "Did _you_ find anything?" She asked quietly. Her white hair fell over her shoulders as she looked over at Charles.

"No," he answered after a second. "I had thought Kurt would be able to tell me something in his sleep . . . but heis obviously still under the influence of the sedative Hank gave him last night." That was one of the reasons Xavier had wanted to stay with Kurt. Ororo had picked up on that. "People can be more willing to tell others of something when they know they're alone in a place they feel comfortable . . ."

Ororo put a hand on his shoulder. "He will tell us, Charles . . . Kurt trusts us . . . he just needs to find himself again."

Professor X smiled and laid his hand over hers as he continued to watch his blue student sleep soundlessly.

"You know, Ororo," he started in a soft voice, "I never thought Kurt would settle in here . . . I believed he would be too scared and too out-of-place to want to. But I tried. I tried because I knew I would feel guilty if I hadn't . . . even though I was certain he was going to refuse . . ." he paused, leaving the room in silence for a few seconds. "I was surprised he stayed. It gave me hope." Ororo looked at him and he continued, his eyes remaining on Kurt. "If one unique and misunderstood person could find a place with others like himself, and learn to trust them when trust had been given to no one, then people can change, and maybe they can learn too."

Ororo watched him, and turned her head back to look down at Kurt.

"I see them all as my own children, Ororo," he continued in his gentle voice, a hint of seriousness in his tone. "To see one of them like this . . . to be recovering, yet at the same time not recovering . . . is painful . . ."

Ororo blinked slowly, her features expressionless. "I understand, Charles," she spoke quietly.

Xavier's brow furrowed slightly in a frown, his gaze now a stare, focused on Kurt's closed eyes. "Is it wrong to think that if this was another student, the situation would not be so grave?"

Her own eyes were unblinking as Ororo thought about Xavier's question. He did not often ask these, but when he did, Ororo was almost always the one to hear them, and to answer them.

"No," she answered in a whisper, her expression the same. "It isn't." Seconds passed before she said, "Scott could walk down a street and be ignored. He'd reach the end unharmed . . . Kurt could walk down a street … and he wouldn't reach the end . . . No one can ignore Kurt . . ."

She didn't need to explain the gist of her example, Xavier understood. He understood that if any other student were beaten up, it would be because of a situation they either made or got into. Kurt's reason was not so easy to avoid.

"It is . . ." Ororo continued, "unfortunate that any attack on our students should happen. But it is also sad that it should happen to Kurt, because of what he is."

Xavier blinked, his focus moving down to the drip in Kurt's hand, delivering him fluids that he would have otherwise lost rapidly over night.

"Yes," he whispered.

* * *

Changed from their uniforms and into their civvies, Jean, Rogue and Kitty walked over to the library to hopefully start and finish their homework. It was a little easier to concentrate on it since they knew Kurt was definitely going to heal properly, so that when they finishedthey could spend the remainder of the day with their fuzzy, bluefriend. However, what little conversation they hadit wasn't about homework.

"Is that homework?" Jean asked, leaning nearer to Kitty to look at the paper in front of her.

Kitty shook her head while replying, "no." She continued coloring the paper and then said, "it's a 'get well' card for Kurt. I figured since he seems to be well enough to move, he's obviously recovering pretty well, and… well . . . I didn't dare make one before because . . ."

Jean smiled understandingly. "We were all a bit scared then," she said kindly. "But deep down we knew he was going to make it."

Rogue glanced from her work, sat on Kitty's other side on the end of the table, and gave Jean a stare. _We're not all psychics,_ she thought acidly. In truth, Rogue had been scared that Kurt wouldn't survive that first night. She had nightmares that Hank had failed to save him, and he had died. Looking back at her paper, Rogue continued with her assignment.

The library was silent once more and Jean moved back to her own papers. The sound of pen and coloring crayons scratching over paper were the loudest noises, until Kitty decided to break the silence.

"Where do you think Logan has taken Scott and Evan?" She asked the other two, pausing her coloring and staring at the table as though thinking about her own question.

Jean shook her head slightly, a clueless expression on her features. "I don't know . . . perhaps he wants to try searching again."

"Or maybe he's found somethin'," Rogue suggested.

"Why wouldn't he have told us?" Jean questioned her assumption, frowning.

Rogue looked at her and gave a small shrug. She turned back down to her homework.

Jean watched her and then sat back, turning her eyes to her paper, but focusing on nothing. "It all seems the answer we're looking for is trying to be kept hidden," she said a little distantly.

"It seems stupid t' me t' look for it when Kurt won't even say," Rogue muttered. "Maybe Kurt doesn't want us t' help him, doesn't want us t' find out."

"Of course he does," Jean said, frowning at Rogue. "He _needs_ us to help him – "

"Then why hasn't he said anything!" Rogue demanded, on her feet with her palms on the table, fixing her eyes on Jean's. Her frustration was finally showing,

"Rogue, he needs _time_," Jean told her, a little surprised by her outburst.

"_It's been – a week_," Rogue said, a glare on her features.

"He can't relive it just yet, it's too _painful_ for him!" Jean shouted as she stood up, unable to control herself. She was angry at Rogue's impatience. "Would you like to go through a traumatizing experience for the third time in your life and be expected to talk about it so soon after? Wouldn't you like to _heal_ first before you're reminded of the reason you received those injuries?" Her voice lowered to a quiet tone. "You begin to question your trust in people when things like that happen . . . even if its your best friend," she glanced at Kitty, " or your own sister, however related," she looked back at Rogue. "He's confused, he doesn't know what to do, whether to tell us or not. We're not the only ones without answers . . . " she breathed a little unsteadily, eyes fixed on Rogue's. "Which is why we need to help him trust us again. By being patient and being there for him, he'll be himself again, soon . . ."

Kitty was looking at the redhead, sadness written in her face. She glanced at Rogue, who was returning Jean's stare. Silence was again the main occupant of the room.

Rogue's eyes lowered from Jeans to the space behind her, and then moved again to another place. An unreadable frown was creasing her brow, and she stood straight, turned and walked out of the room without a word.

Jean stared at the door for a couple of seconds before letting out a breath and sinking back into her seat, a hand reaching up to run over her face. She knew Rogue was concerned for Kurt, she knew that was the reason for her outburst. She knew she shouldn't have shouted at her, either.

* * *

"Ah, Rogue, could you stay here while I get something to eat?" Hank said quickly as Rogue entered the infirmary. Before she'd even answered Hank was at the doorway, and interpreted her silence to mean yes. "Thanks," he said, rushing out. Rogue turned briefly to watch him disappear into the corridor, and turned back to the room. She looked over to the bed. Kurt was awake and trying to sit up. She moved over to him and seated herself on the chair.

He stopped moving and looked past his bangs, which were falling over his face, at her. Kurt turned his eyes away and continued his effort to try and get comfortable. It wasn't working. He ceased the futile attempt and lowered his head, sighing through his nose quietly.

Rogue tilted her head slightly as his hair fell over and blocked her view of his face. She reached out and used her gloved index finger to pull back his nearest lock of indigo hair. "Hey," she greeted softly, smiling weakly at him. She tucked his hair behind his pointed ear and lowered her hand. "Are you okay?"

His half-open eyes glanced in her directly, but didn't meet her own. He didn't answer.

Rogue exhaled and lowered her shoulders sadly. "Ah'm sorry," she said quietly. Kurt didn't look at her, he stared at his bed sheet. Rogue let her eyes drift downward, and rested on the bandage around Kurt's hand where the fluids IV was inserted during his forced sleep. Her heart tugged in sympathy for him. "You'll be outta here soon," she said, lifting her hand and taking his fingers in it, squeezing them gently while avoiding his bandaged hand.

They sat in silence for half a minute, listening to the sounds of the Institute and the machines in the infirmary. Rogue felt a question on the tip of her tongue wanting to be answered, but she just couldn't voice it out. Looking at him, Kurt looked so miserable he didn't seem as though he was even going to talk to her, let alone answer something he's been keeping quiet for a week.

_Do you trust me?_ Rogue asked him in her mind, watching him. Of course, he didn't hear her, and didn't even turn away from her gaze even though he could feel it.

It seemed like an hour went by before silence was interrupted again.

"Vhen you first saw me . . ." Kurt said quietly, still looking down, " . . . vhat vere your first feelings?"

Rogue frowned slightly at him. She didn't answer straight away. "Ah guess . . ah was surprised," she said softly, thinking back to when she first saw Kurt, in hisblue form.

"You vere scared . . ." he answered for her.

Rogue tried to open her mouth to deny that, but she couldn't lie to him. She watched him sadly. "Ah _was_ scared," she admitted. "But not _just_ because of you . . . because of what ah found out ah could do." She paused, looking down at the bed sheets, and then lifted her gaze to his and smiled. "Ah could speak German for a time. _That_ surprised me."

Her smiled grew a tad as his own lips curled into one. A few strands of his hair fell back over his eyes, but this time he moved them back.

"Do you ever miss Germany?" Rogue asked quietly.

Kurt blinked, his lips parted slightly, thinking. A small trace of a frown was at his brow, and he didn't speak for seconds.

"Sometimes," he answered softly, staring at the white sheets. He turned her eyes to her, and his head followed slowly. "Do you? Miss home?"

The smiled that had momentarily gone, returned. "_This_ is mah home. No one lies t' me and keeps things from me that ah should have tha right t' know . . . and ah feel ah belong . . ."

Kurt watched her like a quiet infant who had been told something secret. His gaze drifted away from her face "And feel safe . . ."

"Everybody feels safe in their own home," Rogue said, leaning forward slightly.

Kurt remained silent. His gentle glowing eyes lowered to the folds in the covers of his bed.

Rogue let her own eyes wander, and they strayed to a piece of notepaper sat on the small nightstand on the other side of Kurt's bed. She reached over the elf and picked it up, finding more than one sheet.

"Hey, hows about ah find a pen and we play a little hangman?" She suggested with a rare grin.

Kurt lifted his eyes to the paper, and then upward to her own. He smiled his Kurt smile.

* * *

**AN**: Woo friggety hoo – I finally finished this chapter. Um, many apologizes, I didn't set myself enough memos to remind me to get my ass moving with this chap. I get things dun quickly if I get alotta prompting. Any volunteers? Lol. I always love writing this fic, so it seems stupid I leave it so late. But I haff been busy with college work, and I've started my driving lessons. (wish me luck) 

And thanks follow to:

**TheDudeLordOfFantasy**: You're nearly always the first reviewer of my chapters, lol, I bow ta ya ;) And yeah, Kurt's healing. Thank ya

**Amused4ever**: Suspense is gud! How can you not like the suspense? ;p

**Denielle**: The attacker isn't anyone known in the show, just some made up character. Sorry to spoil that, but I didn't want anyone to be disappointed when you find out it's just some random bunch of – shutting up. Thanks, btw

**TD85**: Thanks for the inspirational chapter on your story ;) helped me get back to mine – credit goes to ToiletDuck everyone, lol

**Manie**: Nice ta hear ya like, thank you

**Blue Tajiri**: Thank thee ;) Can't give away any answers until later

**Blue Rascal**: Another Kurt angsty fan, booyah

**Fuzzybluelogic**: Thankus, lol

**Dagaz16**: I'm sorry to have kept ya waiting, least I know y'all like to read it that much. Thanks

**Inu-youkai 911**: Thank ya for the fav ;)


	10. Almost There

**To Live To Suffer**

Almost There

* * *

The huge building rose towards the sky against the gray clouds that blockedthe sunrays. The day wasn't dark, but it felt as though an enormous blanket had been pulled over the town. The air was mild, and slightly humid.

Three heads were looking up at the building, stood outside the front entrance. The odd few people entered and exited through the automatic door as they lowered their heads again.

"What exactly did you see to make you wanna come here?" Evan asked the man on Scott's right.

Logan's eyes were narrowed in the direction of the entrance. Thoughts pushed their way into his mind, but he abandoned them to answer Evan.

"As I said, porcupine," he finally spoke up, addressing Evan by his nickname. "A clue."

Scott glanced down at Evan through his red shades, which usually flashed as they caught the light (but no sun was able to reflect thecrimson lenses). He gave Evan a face in response to Logan's unhelpful answer, and Evan mimicked it. When they looked up, the older mutant was already moving towards the hospital entrance, and they both jogged to catch up to him. He waited for them in the doorway, propping the door open with a boot. The two teenagers stepped across the threshold into the building.

They walked at Logan's rapid pace down a corridor that opened out into a waiting room. The reception counter was directly in front of the corridor entrance, and they walked up to it. There was no color except blank walls;with the exception of the waiting room, which was a light shade of blue painted for the purpose of relaxing the patients.

"'Scuse me," Logan spoke up in his gruff voice to the short, plump woman behind the counter. "Can yer tell me where I can find the kid that was brought in about a week ago? Has an illness, claims he saw a demon."

The woman's eyes widened slightly in realization as he finished, as did Scott and Evan's, who exchanged glances again.

"Oooh, _that_ boy," she looked across the waiting room at the corridor connecting to it, opposite their entrance. "You want room 12, honey," she said, pointing in that direction. She turned her attention back to her papers.

One or two people glanced up as the trio crossed the waiting room towards the corridor. The bright lighting caught Scott's shades as he passed under each rectangular lamp on the ceiling, earning all but two of the glances.

Once they were in the corridor, the tense air that seemed to envelope them in other people's presence lifted slightly, and the two boys seemed to relax a little as they walked down the empty, quiet halls of the hospital. Logan's words to the lady back at the reception were echoing in Scott and Evan's minds. This boy had obviously seen a demon – Kurt – and this has something to do with the attack? Questions pricked the end of their tongues, but Logan was striding in such a manner ahead of them that they didn't think he'd answer, until they were in the company of this kid who had seen Kurt's real form, who could possibly give them all the answers they'd been looking for . . .

* * *

"Hey, got something for ya," the kind voice of Kitty interrupted the quiet air of the infirmary as she handed Kurt a card on which she had drawn and colored a 'Get Well' message on. She had given up on homework and left the library. 

Kurt looked up at his best friend and lowered his eyes to the card, taking if gently from her hands and looking at it, noticing the effort she had put into it. He smiled, appreciative of her thoughtfulness. Kitty could make him happy with just a simple thing, but it was often filled with time and care.

"Danke, Kitty," he said quietly, his smile remaining as he looked up into her pretty features.

She seated herself on the chair near his bead, smiling at his use of German. It always made her smile. Sometimes she even forgot he was foreign, despite his constant accent. She remembered trying to teach him to pronounce his 'th' and his 'w'. It had been a very amusing day, as he had given up after a few minutes of spitting on his pronunciations. The institute had decided it wasn't Kurt if they didn't hear 'w's being replaced with 'v's, and so agreed not to put Kurt through anymore more torture.

"You're welcome," she replied as he stood the colored card on the nightstand. "Where's Rogue?" She asked curiously, noticing a few pieces of paper on Kurt's bed with the game Hangman scrawled in Rogue's writing.

"Zuh kitchen," he replied quietly after a few seconds, turning back into his seat. He still wasn't in the habit of answering questions straight after they'd been asked. Kurt winced and leant forward slightly, and his tail freed itself from beneath him and curved around him comfortably. He sat back and rested his head on the back of the bed railing, the pillows propped between his head and the metal.

The silence around them wasn't something Kitty was yet used to, so she attempted to make conversation, for she knew he would probably be feeling a little awkward as well.

"It was pretty tame in the Danger Room earlier," she said, smiling as his eyes slowly blinked to hers. Of course it hadn't been tame,Hank McCoy had made sure of that. "Well . . .itwas_ quiet_ without you," she added.

The little smile that had been lingering on Kurt's lips seemed to disappear without moving.

It made Kitty frown. He was supposed to smile, yet he did the opposite. What was he thinking?

". . . I vish I vas in zhere . . ." he said quietly, mostly to himself. It seemed he was almost unaware of Kitty suddenly. "I'd razher be . . ."

Being left in the dark on Kurt's mysterious attack was agony at this point. Kitty wanted desperately to hear Kurt explain to her what had happened so she could understand why he was like he was. His behavior was understandable after his ordeal, but there was definitely something else that was tormenting him. The question that everyone in the institute had wanted to ask was in her mouth, and she almost uttered the first letter, but caught herself in time.

"I vish it had never happened . . ." Kurt whispered, closing his eyes and lowering his head. The next words he muttered were so quiet Kitty didn't catch them except for the word 'monster'.

She guessed what he had said anyway, and felt her heart tug. She reached over and rested a hand on his shoulder.

"You're no monster, Kurt," she said firmly, in a tone she very rarely used. "You are the most human of us all at this institute – and don't ever forget that."

She watched his reaction, which didn't change, for a second, before leaning forward and gently wrapping her arms around him in a hug, half surprised and half glad when he returned it. He was not crying, in fact his sad, but tearless expression was somewhat encouraging. He was recovering slowly but surely, mentally as well as physically.

"It's aright for you to think that," Kitty said gently at his shoulder. "But it isn't true, and you know it."

A sad smile pulled at Kurt's lips, and despite his painful injuries, hugged her tighter. He felt the urge to tell her something that he hadn't told any of the others. He closed his eyes and took a breath.

"Zhat night . . . a veek ago, vhen I vas attacked . . ." he started in a voice close to a whisper, his eyes remaining closed, his chin on her shoulder still. He paused to take a slow, deeper breath, in which time Kitty froze, wondering if he was going to tell her what she thought. " . . . I – I vas at zhat new joke shop at zuh edge of town . . ." His eyes opened slightly, lowered to the floor over Kitty's shoulder, finding it difficult to talk. He swallowed, and felt a slight rub of Kitty's hand on his back. ". . . I heard –"

But he stopped.

Kitty frowned for a second, and then lifted her chin from Kurt's shoulder to look at his face as he took his arms away. He was watching the infirmary door, and Kitty turned her head around to see Rogue in the corridor walking towards it.

Kitty looked back at her best friend with disappointment in her expression, but Kurt avoided her gaze and lowered his eyes. She let go of his shoulders and their hug was completely broken as Rogue entered the infirmary, glancing at Kitty. She was holding a bowl of something that was steaming, and watching them curiously.

"What's wrong?" She asked in her southern accent, stopping just before Kurt's bed.

Realizing her disappointment was still visible on her face, Kitty tried to replace it with her usual expression, but couldn't help feeling so frustrated. Kurt had almost told her what had happened to him! Why must interruptions appear at the very moments they're not needed? She glanced back at Kurt. He was completely put off; no way would he continue now.

Rogue frowned slightly as she picked up the Hangman papers and sat herself down on the edge of Kurt's bed, trying to read Kitty's face. She found nothing she could pick up on, and so turned back to Kurt.

"Ah got ya soup," she told her adoptive brother, holding the bowl out for him. He took it slowly as she said, "ah know ya like that stuff."

Before Kitty had arrived, Kurt had been hungry, and Rogue had disappeared to fetch him something. Since he still wasn't eating much, Hank suggested they keep him on liquid food to help bring his appetite back correctly. But right now, Kurt didn't feel hungry at all. It felt like there was something cold and heavy in his stomach, and trying to eat would make it grow. Kurt stared down at his bowl, the brownish soup would have looked tasty at another time, but right now he felt no urge to swallow it.

Which annoyed Rogue, who could see his appetite was now gone. What had Kitty been saying to him to make him sink back intothis mode? She felt a little angry at the younger girl. Rogue was trying to help Kurt get well, and the younger girl was ruining her efforts.

"Try a little bit," she urged Kurt gently. "Ya might find ya appetite's come back."

Kurt looked at her and then his soup again, and sighed through his nose. "I'll eat it later," he said softly, putting it on the table beside his bed, in front of Kitty's card.

Silence arrived again to dominate the room, and Rogue noticed and read the card Kitty had made. She wondered what Kitty had said for Kurt to suddenly change behavior in the space of fifteen minutes.

Kurt yawned, interrupting the quiet air. He attempted to stifle it, but without success.

Rogue raised her eyes to him. "Ya tired, ya want us ta leave?"

Kurt shook his head, his eyes a little droopy. "Vhere is everyvon?" He asked, just to change the subject. By everyone, they knew he meant the rest of the X Men, as the new recruits were usually always in the rec. room on their days off.

"They're about," Kitty answered simply. "Jean says she'll visit you later." She didn't know whether telling him Logan, Scott and Evan had disappeared, presumably to follow a clue about Kurt's attack, was a good idea. It might distress him, as he obviously didn't want anyone to know until he was ready to tell them. Which, unfortunately, was taking too long for the X Men.

Kitty glanced at Rogue, who caught her eyes. The Goth knew she had avoided mentioning a few names.

"I think I'll go get something to eat," Kitty announced, standing up. She wasn't hungry, she just needed an excuse to exit and leave Rogue and Kurt alone.

Rogue nodded slightly, but Kurt looked about to protest. He said nothing and lowered his eyes again, and Kitty turned and walked out, thinking about what Kurt had almost told her.

* * *

KNOCK KNOCK 

Jean lowered her book as her eyes lifted to the door. She rolled off her bed where she had been reading and walked over to open it, instead of using her telekinesis.

"Hello, Jean," the professor greeted calmly as the door was opened before him.

"Professor," she replied, stepped back to let him enter her room. She pushed the door to after him and walked back to sit on her bed as Xavier stopped next to her. "Is anything wrong?"

Professor Xavier took his hands off the controls of his wheelchair and rested them on his knees. "I was going to as you the same question."

Jean frowned, which was the cue for Xavier to explain.

"I heard there was a bit of an argument in the library earlier," he told her in his all-knowledge voice.

Jean watched him for a second before blinking and lowering her head slightly. "Rogue and I don't always agree on things . . . " 'Agree' wasn't exactly the reason they argued, but Jean avoided the temptation to tell the professor how impatient Rogue was being.

Xavier hooded his hands together loosely on his lap. "I understand," he said after a second, his eyes drifting to gaze on her book. "It has become . . . tense . . . in the institute since the horrible event last week," he started. "And when it should be lifting, it has increased." He lifted his eyes to her Jean's politely. "Rogue is acting impatient, because she, like you, is deeply concerned."

Jean let lose a small sigh. "I know . . . it's just, she doesn't seem to be thinking of Kurt's view . . . she expects him to have explained to us what had happened by now . . ."

"Do you?"

Jean looked up at him, tilting her head slightly at his question. " . . . No," she answered, and lowered her head, hair cascading past her shoulders. "But I would have liked him to have told us by now . . ." She sighed again. "I don't know if he wants us to find out for ourselves, though . . . explaining it himself would be uncomfortable, I can tell."

The professor watched her. "Perhaps he does want us to discover what happened, but perhaps not . . . it is a difficult time . . ." He paused. "You believe Kurt doesn't trust us . . ." he wasn't asking her. He spoke as if continuing a previous conversation in which Jean had announced something of interest.

The redhead looked up once again at the professor's face, and studied his kind features. The world's most powerful telepath was bound to havepicked up a few things froman argument in the same building.

"I don't know," Jean answered, uncertainty in her voice.

Professor Xavier smiled slightly, warmly. "He may not like talking to us all about certain things, but I believe that Kurt trusts us, no matter what he's been through. We were his friends when no one else was, and that's something I know he holds very dear."

Jean blinked as she stared. Yes, Kurt had always been so very grateful of his friends here. She remembered his first few days at the Institute. With the exception of Kitty, he had been amazed how everyone had befriended him so quickly. She knew she would never forget that one day when she knocked on his door a week after his arrival, and he had been sat cross-legged on his bed, watching the setting sun. She recalled the beautiful colors the room had been bathed in, and the peaceful and _first_ genuine smile on Kurt's face. He had told her he dreamed of meeting people who would not turn and flee at the first sight of him. She had felt sorry that they had been his first friends, but he was not. He was only thankful he finally had people he could trust . . .

Pulling herself out of her memory, Jean looked up and frowned. Professor Xavier was not there. She looked at the open door and realized he must have left. She stood up and walked over to close it, but hesitated. Instead, she walked out her room, pulling it shut behind her, and headed to the infirmary.

* * *

**AN:** Some of that might have seemed pointless, but I feel they should be in there. We're getting closer to the truth ;) 

Thanks go out to:

**TheDudeLordOfFantasy: **Yeah, brother-sister bonding is a must in my fics ;) sorryI take so long updating, I'll write myself notes to remind me everyday, heh.

**Inu-youkai 911: **Thank much

**Prophet Song: **Lol, I haven't thought about doing anything horrible to Kurt's attackers, because...well you'll see, but maybe I will...

**ToiletDuck: **Thank ya :) I really wanted Kurt to be suffering (evil me, feels bad) because it really makes you feel for him. I really shud ease up o the guy... um, maybe...

**LanceIsHot: **Thanks, glad you like it

**amused4ever: **Lol, okay put like that suspense can kill you... takes knives away from you Thanks ;)

**Karakin: **Thanks - and thanks for the luck, I passed my driving theory test first time ;)

**Rhapsodyblue15: **Cruel writers are cool ;) hehe thanks

**Blue Tajiri: **Here's more, hope you like, ta

**Kriszty: **Much like me, I love to read/write Kurt getting beat up... its so evil, but you just love it ... strange, lol. Thank you mucho

**BlueRascal: **Heh, I kinda liked that ending too. Thanks

**Dagaz16: **Thanks ;)


	11. Disappeared

**To Live To Suffer**

Disappeared

* * *

The wooden floor creaked under Kitty's foot as she stepped onto the floorboards of the joke shop. Rogue entered after her, glancing apprehensively at the various objects on the many shelves as though there would be a screen showing everything that happened to Kurt. 

It was a small building, and from the inside looked like a shack even though it was relatively new. But it was built from brick and cement just like the rest of the town. Situated on the edge of Bayville next to a large area of woods, it was a surprise it hadn't closed down from lack of customer. But perhaps it was popular, after all, both Kitty and Rogue had heard of this little place once or twice around school.

"Ah can't believe he almost told _you_ instead of me," Rogue grumbled as she and Kitty walked slowly among the isles, glancing at the odd interesting object.

Kitty half rolled her eyes at her friend and let out a sigh. "Probably because we're _best friends_," she said, emphasizing the words. She hadn't wanted to tell anyone, but a part of her knew she should of, and who else but her roommate? Sometimes they argued, but Rogue was Kitty's closest friend after Kurt, and although they were completely different, they had grown to understand each other.

"Ah'm his sister!" Rogue exclaimed lightly.

Kitty _did_ roll her eyes all the way. "Oh, so now you wanna be his sister – when you first learned that, only _he_ wanted to accept it." Kitty continued to walk with Rogue at her heels; each looking at different shelves, making their way to what they hoped was the front of the shop.

"Hey, ah had a hard time _trying_ ta accept it," Rogue replied, glancing at the swaying ponytail in front of her, remembering the confusing memories she had stolen from Mystique.

"He had a hard time finding out his mother was _Mystique_," Kitty said, turning her head slightly in Rogue's direction. "But he still wanted to believe it, and now he doesn't let it bother him… too much . . ." Kitty picked up an ornament, but seeing the rudeness up close, put it down quickly.

"Ah believed it, ah just didn't want ta think about it," Rogue said a little quieter. She pressed her lips together and looked pensively at a long ledge on the shelf case, as Kitty glimpsed the paying counter through the many bookcases.

As Kitty picked up her pace a little, she said to her shoulder, "Kurt did, that's all he talked to me about – y' know, having a sister. He was really excited. He just wished he could have _grown up_ with you."

Rogue let a one-sided smile twist her purple lips and a small huff of a laugh through her nose. She followed Kitty to the counter, where a man around his late forties was leant, watching a TV sat next to him. The screen was turned away from Kitty and Rogue, so they couldn't see what was playing, and the sound was very quiet. A blue New York baseball cap was sat fittingly on his head. He looked up as they approached.

"Well hi there," he said in an accent similar to Rogue's, but not as strong. "What can I do fer you two ladies?"

Kitty slid a hand into her jeans back pocket and pulled out a photograph. She held it up with her thumb and forefinger for the man to see.

"Do you recognize this boy?" She asked politely. In her hand was a photograph she had managed to snap of Kurt with his inducer on. It had been an effort to find a decent picture of him, and an even greater problem finding one with his holowatch active at the time. She doubted the man would recognize a blue demon, or even believe it was a photo if she presented one of Kurt's real form. "He was in here last week." She was tempted to say Kurt was missing to make it sound important, but couldn't find the heart to lie.

The man squinted at the picture and nodded. "Yep, sure as hell remember the blue hair, don't take much notice of the faces though, but I've seen him two or three times here."

A hopeful flutter tingled her chest and Kitty said more eagerly, "Do you remember where he went? Anything happen to him in here or outside?"

The man frowned slightly in thought. "Um, I know nothing happened to him – not what _I_ saw –" he glanced at them, assuming something probably _had_ happened to this boy " – but . . . I remember him turning left out of this building," he added in a pitch slightly higher, almost a question, as though hoping it was the right answer for them.

Kitty, having lowered the picture, put it back into her pocket and smiled at the man. "Thanks a lot," she said, and she and Rogue left quickly, turning left outside. They were facing the woods.

They both looked at the tall, looming trees for a second, before Kitty broke the silence.

"Aren't these the woods Jean found Kurt in?" She asked quietly, her blue eyes staring at the treetops.

"Yeah," Rogue answered, a small breeze lifted a few strands of her white bangs.

Kitty let a few seconds pass before she said, "it can't hurt to look – Scott and Evan have probably been here, but . . . you never know . . ."

Rogue understood she was implying they might find something. After all, the two girls were following the path Kurt had taken, whereas Scott and Evan hadn't known Kurt had been at the joke shop just before his attack.

Without another word, Rogue started to walk towards the trees, and a second later Kitty caught up with her pace. They entered the woods and followed a dirt trail that had been walked into the floor. However, after about a hundred yards in it took a long bend to the right, and Kitty stopped.

Rogue glanced back a few feet ahead and halted as well. She turned to her friend.

"I don't see why Kurt would have come into the woods," Kitty said before Rogue could ask her why she stopped.

"You know how he is," Rogue told her, as though reminding Kitty she knew all about her best friend. "He likes forests . . . ah guess he decided to take a walk through here."

Kitty looked away from the invisible path straight ahead of them to Rogue. "Yeah but it was dark last week, and Kurt wouldn't just decide to take a walk after school . . . not all the way out here . . ." It was a good five miles or more from the Institute to the woods.

Rogue crossed her arms impatiently as Kitty's eyes clouded over and her thinking face was adopted.

"Maybe he heard something," Kitty suggested to herself. "Or _saw_ something." She looked back at the direction directly in front, which the path went around, and started walking, leaving the dirt course and stepping into the wild growth of the woods. Rogue sighed, unfolded her arms and followed.

"He should have told ya sooner," Rogue said a little grouchily, again because of the fact he chose to tell Kitty. "Then we might've had a trail ta follow."

They walked in silence after that, following a relatively tame direction. Kitty glanced at a thin, broken branch, bend to the side as though it had been forced. _Maybe it had_, Kitty told herself, wondering if Kurt had caught it when he was walking this way . . . _if_ he was walking this way.

Rogue glanced about every now and then as they walked, hoping they weren't going to get lost.

"He heard something," Kitty said quite suddenly. Kurt's unfinished explanation earlier had been replaying in her mind, and she remembered what he had told her.

"What?" Rogue asked, pushing a low grouping of twigs and leaves out of her way and frowning questioningly at her.

"Kurt said he heard something," Kitty repeated.

"_What?_" Rogue said again, watching her and listening intently.

"I don't know, you interrupted him before he could explain further," Kitty answered a little dryly. "But maybe that explains why he came in here so late – he must've heard something and gone to see what." She thought for a second. "You think his attackers could have lured him in here . . . ?"

Rogue shook her head slightly, stepping over a fallen log covered with moss on one side. "No," she said, "why would they? Nobody knows Kurt except us, why would anyone have an excuse ta beat him up? They wouldn't know he looks . . . like he looks."

Kitty titled her head slightly in consideration and bent under a low branch. The sky was turning dark and a breeze had managed to wind its way through the trees to reach them. Both very much wanted to go home, but neither said anything.

Rogue spotted a few broken branches now, much like what Kitty had seen. They appeared to have been broken by something pushing past them. The detective in Rogue noticed how they were hanging by a just few threads of wood, indicating some force was put into them. Was Kurt running?

Hey . . ." Kitty's voice floated from ahead, and Rogue glanced up, bending low under a branch and straightening back up. She stopped next to her friend in a small clearing.

"Looks like . . ." Kitty continued as she stepped forward, glancing at the floor. "Something fell outta the trees." She raised her head to look up at the large tree in front of them.

"How can ya tell?" Rogue asked a little skeptically, stepping beside her again. She looked at the ground and noticed a few big, wrecked branches.

"Because those branches up there are broken," Kitty pointed out, and Rogue looked up. In an uneven but noticeable path, one side of the tree now had hanging and broken branches, from far up.

"That doesn't exactly give us any answers," Rogue said after a few seconds. "Maybe he decided ta 'port inta the tree and fall out," she added sarcastically.

Kitty wasn't listening. She had moved closer to the thick trunk of the tree and was examining it. Any other time she would have felt foolish, but she was here for a purpose. She looked up and noticed something.

"The branches aren't broken at the bottom," she told Rogue, still looking up.

The Goth gave a small sigh and stepped over the fallen tree limbs to look up at the trunk properly. "So maybe they caught themselves in time," she replied softly, seeing the 'path' of broken twigs and branches end about five meters from the ground. She looked back down at the ground, her eyes lingering on the broken tree limbs. Looking closer, she thought perhaps Kitty was right; something had happened here. She hadn't really been expecting to find anything, and to tell the truth, she didn't think this was a major clue.

"C'mon, let's look further," Kitty suddenly suggested, already stepping over the dead branches and moving off, dragging Rogue by a gloved hand.

"Why? Th' action – whatever action – happened _here_," Rogue said, allowing herself to be led away from the big tree and deeper into the forest.

"Yeah but something led or . . ." Kitty paused. " . . . dragged Kurt into that clearing, which means there could be something else to see."

Rogue's shoulder's slumped. "Kitty, we could walk right past something if it was there, this forest is _huge_."

"Yeah, but we _could_ walk _in_to something if it's there," Kitty answered with a smile. A leaf floated from above and entangled itself in her ponytail as it swayed about. Rogue noticed but said nothing.

It was almost ten minutes, after winding through the trees and stepping over overgrown plant life, that they came upon a roughly edged clearing, large enough for a camping party of twenty – and probably was used for such things. They knew immediately where they were. Their eyes fell on the darkened blades of burnt grass dotted in patches in front, only a few yards away. There was a large dirt area in the center of the burnt grasses, where unnatural forest colors lay.

The two teenagers moved forward slowly, pushing aside the leafy walls of the clearing and stepping onto a crispy circle of blackened grass blades. Kitty glanced about uneasily at a line of dead grass, and a fairly big tree branch, burnt at one end. Rogue's eyes were on the dirt patch, and she moved away from Kitty towards it, stopping just before the green ended.

"A week's passed an' it's been raining,'" Rogue said softly, ". . . an' there's still blood on th' ground . . ."

Kitty looked up at her and walked to where she stood. She cast her eyes down at the beaten floor, which looked as though it had been kicked up. The leaves that had been trampled into the mud, and stuck there by the rain, had the faint color of a dull red – almost brown – stained onto their skin

Rogue glanced at her friend as Kitty turned away, the leaf falling from her hair, and said hopefully, "Look around, maybe something was dropped."

Rogue complied by sighing through her nostrils and began to search the floor.

* * *

"Where is everyone?" Jean asked, entering the kitchen with her brilliant red hair bouncing down her back. Her green eyes circled the room as she entered, seeing no one but Ororo, who was stood in front of the sink, rinsing her hands under mild-warm water. She had left the infirmary a few minutes ago to relieve herself in the bathroom, and had felt hunger rumble her stomach. Knowing Kurt wasn't going to miss her for another few minutes, she had headed to the kitchen, expanding her mind to find where the other occupants of the institute were, out of curiosity. She was surprised to find Kitty and Rogue were missing. 

Ororo glanced at her from across the room. She was perched on the bay window's sill with a mug of tea cupped in her hands, having been watching the birds peck at the seed she had thrown onto the grass not long ago. Her long white hair was pulled back over her shoulder as her head turned.

"Seems empty without Scott or Evan, doesn't it?" She asked rhetorically, a question to answer Jean's.

Jean walked past the breakfast table to stand at the bay window. "I mean, Kitty and Rogue aren't here. Have they told you they were going anywhere?" It would probably have seemed a little nosey of her under the normal circumstances, but the two younger girls would not have disappeared while their best friend and brother was still bed ridden.

Ororo looked surprised at this news. "No," she answered. "I haven't seen them since this morning's Danger Room session."

A corner of Jean's lips tugged in a grim, thoughtful smile. "I saw Rogue only half an hour or so ago in the infirmary." She looked out the window. "I don't know where they could have gone."

Ororo watched her, reflecting her frown. Jean sat down on the window sil and held the adult's eyes with her own.

"Where has Logan gone?" She asked. "He's found something linked to Kurt's attack, hasn't he?"

Ororo held her gaze and said simply and softly, "yes."

* * *

A blue hand fell onto the corner of the wall and Kurt's body followed it, pressed against the surface so he could keep himself upright. His labored breathing was loud, considering he didn't want to be caught out of bed a second time. Stumbling down the institute's corridors was taking a hard effort out of his weak body, but he couldn't sit back in the infirmary any longer. It was driving him crazy. The pleasure of being able to walk again was dampened somewhat by the pain on his injuries, but it wasn't going it stop him. He knew his friends weren't telling him something, and he wanted to know what. His forehead was pounding where the wound lay beneath its dressing, and his chest was on fire, causing his breathing to become difficult. But he would endure it a little more.

He looked up from his position, leaning on the wall, and found himself in the corridor with the door to the dining room. Swallowing to moist his dry throat, he commanded his legs to walk forward, using one hand to push against the wall so he wouldn't keep falling into it. He stopped outside the door, finding it an inch or two open. He held his breath and listened, straining his ears to pick up the sounds of anyone in the room. He could only hear a muffled ring and his own heartbeat throbbing in overtime. Pushing the door opened he grasped the doorframe on either side of him and glanced around the room, making a second check with his eyes. It was empty, and he wasn't going to do any eavesdropping here. He was about to turn away and stumble out when his eyes fell on an object sat on the table. He limped towards it, leaning one hand on the table and reaching for the newspaper with the other. He glanced over the titles of the articles and his eyes stopped dead on one them. His heart pounded even more as his hovering hand grabbed the paper and pulled it nearer. He read it again:

SICK BOY CLAIMES HE WAS ATTACKED BY A DEMON

His lips had parted as his pale eyes widened. This paper was sat on the table his friends had eaten at, meaning someone had read it. Who always read the paper at the table? Logan.

* * *

"Yeah," Jean chuckled lightly, "I remember when he ate those special veggie burgers for Kitty, and she'd only just bought them. She replaced his original shampoo with that fleatreatment – I remember when he had to use that a while before– everyone thought he had fleas again because of that antiseptic smell." Jean laughed. "I personally thought he had used it again."

Ororo laughed into her mug and took a sip. The pair had been sat in the kitchen for fifteen minutes remembering the times Kurt had made them laugh. There was a light drizzle of rain now, having been promised by the blanket of gray clouds. It did nothing to their moods, and it certainly wasn't caused by Storm's current mind.

Jean sighed, a smile on her lips as she watched the water run down the window. "Kurt'll be making us laugh again, soon . . . I'm sure."

Nodding, Ororo said, "He's a good healer. His old personality will return."

Both girls looked up as Hank entered, glancing carelesslyaround, letting a second pass before doing a doubletake when herealized they were there.

"Oh, hello ladies," he said, helping himself to a glass of water. "Is Rogue still in the infirmary with Kurt?" He asked Jean, taking a chance she might know.

"No, she left almost an hour ago," Jean answered. "Now she and Kitty have disappeared somewhere. I was with Kurt fifteen minutes ago, he was almost asleep when I left so he's fine."

Hank nodded. "He could do with being fed. Would you mind doing that, Jean?"

"No, not at all," Jean answered as she stood up. "What soup is it?" She asked, opening the cupboard that held the tinned food.

"Vegetable," Hank answered, bending down to the large drawn under the cooker and bringing out a cooking pan. "The one that's filtered of chunks."

Jean was just reaching into the cupboard when the mechanical hum of Professor Xavier's wheelchair brought him into the kitchen's door. Ororo, Jean and Hank glanced at him.

"Where's Kurt?" The Professor asked.

Jean frowned as she lowered her arms, a tin of soup in her hand. "In the infirmary, why?"

Professor X's lips curled down. "Because his holowatch is gone. I'd just finished repairing it earlier."

* * *

**AN:** I could apologize a thousand times for this chapter being 6 months late, but instead I'll say the old cliché, it won't happen again. Actually, it can't, I've finished my exams, college is almost over, I have lots of free time and my writers block is miles away. Thanks for hanging on this long… hey, is that my echo…? 

Thanks go out to these good people:

**Anc7**

**The DudeLordOfFantasy**

**Amused4ever**

**El Diablo**

**Elfofdeath**

**Kriszty**

**Tailfeather**

**Overlord**

**Amasaki Reyoko**


	12. Answers

**To Live To Suffer**

Answers

* * *

Jean stared at the Professor, one hand still holding the tin of vegetable soup, the other hovering by her side. Her green eyes clear and confused. 

"But Kurt's asleep, he can't walk," she said, disturbing the tense silence that had fallen into the kitchen after the Professor's news.

Charles Xavier, having closed his eyes a second ago, did not respond to Jean for a moment. Ororo and Hank's gazes were on him too as he opened eyes and looked at Jean.

"He's not there now," he informed them in a low, serious voice. "Nor is he in the institute." Before Jean or the adults could react, he added, "He's moving towards town."

The tin landed upright on the kitchen counter with a heavy THUD as Jean dropped it, hers eyes wide and unblinking as they stared at her teacher. She didn't appear to have felt her grip on the tin loosen. Her body turned to face him as a bewildered frown creased her beautiful features.

Ororo's own radiant face was spoilt by a frown as she confusedly inclined her head. "But why? Why would he leave the institute?" She asked quickly.

Professor X fixed his eyes on hers. "He read the newspaper article."

Jean, having heard from Ororo only minutes ago what Logan had read at breakfast, made up her mind quickly, and moved towards the door hurriedly, saying, "I'll go get him – he can't be walking around outside."

She rushed towards the door, red hair bouncing on her back with every footstep, and disappeared past Xavier as Ororo got to her feet and followed swiftly after.

Charles Xavier wondered how on Earth Kurt had found the energy to make his way from one end of the mansion to the other, and then continue to the outside. However strong Kurt thought he was, Charles Xavier was worried for his student.

* * *

Making their way back towards the other side of town where Home was situated, Kitty and Rogue groaned as the light drizzle turned into a downpour. Their hair was already heavy with rainwater, but in less than a minute it was matted to their faces and dripping onto their soaked shoulders.

"Who's ah-dea was it to not bring any money for bus faire?" Rogue grumbled, throwing Kitty a moody glare.

The younger girl's bangs flew about as she looked up. "Hey, like I knew it would throw it down with rain," she grumbled. It had been a nice day earlier; the chances of predicting it would turn into a downpour hadn't been great.

Their mission to search for clues had been unsuccessful, and they had left the forest fifteen minutes ago to head back to the Institute. The rain had dampened their moods even more, as they felt they had failed Kurt by not having found anything.

Both girls stopped short upon hearing the same voice in their minds.

_Rogue, Kitty – Kurt's left the Institue!_ Jean's voice announced with worry. Immediately a frown dominated both mutants' features. _He has his inducer, and I think he's heading to the hospital – get there quickly!_

Jean's voice ceased, but the echo remained in Rogue and Kitty's minds as they exchanged shocked expressions. Kurt was up and about? But why?

They both took off without a word at a run. They weren't far from the hospital, and would make it there under five minutes at their current pace.

With the rain flying off them by the impact of their feet against the sidewalk, they sprinted around the corner of the street on which stood the huge hospital, three minutes later.

"Kitty – Rogue –" Jean appeared from a side street with Ororo in tow. Both looked to have been dropped into a river.

"Where is he?" Rogue demanded as she and Kitty jogged hurriedly towards them.

"He's inside the building," Jean told them breathlessly. "He's faster than I would have thought possible in his condition."

"What's he _doing?_" Rogue very near shouted.

"We'll find out," Kitty said determinedly, pulling her roommate after her in the direction of the hospital. Jean and Ororo dashed after them, rain particles flung into the air from their heads and feet, splashing back down into the puddles that rippled on the concrete.

* * *

Logan watched silently as the young boy before him sniffed and frowned at the floor, avoiding his gaze. The white bed sheets were crumpled about his small form, and his black hair sat on his head naturally messy. He had told them his name was Josh, so proved by the name on his records clipboard that hung on the end of the bed. Aside from the few little scars on his skin he seemed fine.

Logan had been told everything – all of what had happened the night Kurt had been found beaten and almostkilled – at least from this boy's perspective.

At his side, Scott and Evan were staring, brows furrowed over glazed expressions. Evan glanced at Logan, who was expressionless.

"So your brothers beat him up," Logan said quietly, continuing the conversation.

The boy raised his head, his eyes hurt by Logan's word 'beat'. "They were protecting me from that thing." He told them, watching Logan.

"Then, the demon didn't hurt you physically?" Scott pressed.

Josh's large brown eyes turned to him. "No," as though he didn't want to admit he wasn't cruelly injured. "But it _did_ make me iller . . ." He didn't like the fact that these strange people seem to be favoring the demon's side rather than his, the victim's. They had introduced themselves as friends, visisting only to hear what had happened to him.

"That wasn't –" Scott began, but was cut off. The door to the room had been flung open and an exhausted voice cried "Vait!"

The little boy screamed.

* * *

Kitty sped into the corridor ahead of the others, as murmurs from the waiting room increased at the sound of the scream. Hospital personnel looked up, alarmed at both the noise and the sudden appearance of four soaked females.

But the mutants made it to the room before the staff, and Kitty burst across the threshold of the boy's room, jerking herself to a stop.

"Kurt!" She breathed.

He barely glanced at her, eyes frantic, before he fixed his eyes on the little boy, who was staring at him through wide, terrified eyes. Logan had grabbed Kurt as Evan and Scott had jumped to their feet, surprise etched into all of their faces.

"That's the demon!" Josh yelled, having thrown himself out of bed away from them all, almost tripping on his tangled bed sheets.

"I didn't mean to hurt you," Kurt cried breathlessly to the child, from the restraints and support of Logan's arms. Kurt's eyes glistened with tears, made invisible by his inducer. The rainwater on his fur and clothes soaked Logan's front and arms. It was a wonder why his watch hadn't short-circuted in the rain.

"You made me ill, demon!" The kid shouted, then flinched as if Kurt would suddenly jump at him.

"No," Kurt sobbed quietly, his eyes squinted in pain at the boy's words.

"You're wrong, Josh," Logan spoke up, turning to him as the sounds of concerned and confused staff hummed away in the background, blocked by Storm and Jean. "It wasn't his fault – it wasn't anyone's fault!"

Everyone seemed to have turned their eyes to Logan, and listened. The nurses being barricaded from the room silenced their protests. Distant hospital noises were unheard as Logan spoke.

"This kid saved your life," Logan bore his eyes into the ill child's, jerking his head down towards Kurt. "If not for him you'd be in here with a _lot_ more than poisoning, you'd probably be in a body bag sat in the morgue –" Logan stared at the kid, realizing that his tone was perhaps a little to harsh, and his words not something that he should really be telling to a youngster. "You told me that you were climbing trees in the forest. You said you followed your older brothers onto a high branch, but you lost your grip." He paused as the boy stared, wide-eyed as though afraid to hear Logan's words. The older man wasn't just telling Josh this, he was explaining to everyone. "You fell, but instead of hitting the floor, you were teleported into a clearing, kid – saved from what would have likely been your death." He let silence float in for a second before saying, "But the smoke from Kurt's teleportation didn't go down with you too well, did it? You were already ill before all of this, the nurse told me you'd been in here before. Your illness reacted with the brimstone – the smoke – and caused you to have fits, increased your illness."

Josh's lip trembled. "Buh – but he changed, he looked different – he was blue and – and he looked like a . . . a demon" he snuffled, voice barely louder than a whisper, eyes catching the light. They were transfixed onto Logan's. "He didn't stop my fits . . ."

"He couldn't," Logan answered, and Kurt's sad eyes closed in guilt. "No one but the doctors could make you better, kid, and no one could have seen this happ'ning. It was no one's fault that you were made ill . . . but your brother's didn't think about that. Not when they saw what Kurt really looked like." Josh's eyes had strayed to the floor, but at the mention of his brothers, they returned to the older man's. "You caught a device on his arm that lets him look like you and me, but you and you brothers judged by looks. They beat up your rescuer while your were carted off to hospital – they almost _killed_ him, Josh . . ." He let it sink in the small boy's head.

Kitty and Rogue watched silently, their eyes having unintentionally opened a little wider. Water droplets sat on their skin in perfect tear shapes while some fell from their drenched hair. Scott and Evan's faces mirrored them, as did Jean's. Storm's face was much like Logan's: expressionless. All glanced from Logan to Josh.

"They said I would be safe from now on," Josh whispered. "They said they'd took care of it all."

Logan softened his voice. "They almost did . . . they nearly killed an innocent person."

The lip trembled again, and tears started to well and fall from Josh's eyes. "My brothers aren't bad, they were only protecting me," he wept.

"I know, kid," Logan said gently. "But now you know the truth." Kurt was still in his arms, but he had collapsed entirely on his own support and was replying on Logan's. The older mutant could feel small droplets of tears fall onto his arms.

Josh looked up through his own waterlogged eyes and laid them on Kurt. "I'm sorry," he sobbed through a whisper.

Kurt blinked at him but said nothing, his strength drained from him.

"It's alright, kid," Logan spoke up again, softly. He picked Kurt up properly and looked at the little boy who was still on the floor behind his bed. "You're fine, now. Kurt's fine. Everything's been put right . . ." He began to turn, but stopped and looked back at Josh. "And lets not advertise Kurt's real identity, huh, kid? A secrete between you and us . . ." He gave Josh a small smile, which from him was considered a rare treat.

Josh stared back, fear, sadness and guilt gone from his eyes, replaced with a relieved glint. He smiled back.

* * *

The nurses returned to their posts with no recollection of what had just happened, courtesy of Jean. The mutant group followed them out of the corridor and continued on out of the building, receiving looks for the teenager in Logan's arms. He led the way with Rogue and Kitty, who stared in concern at Kurt. He was weak and tired, almost unconscious and in a lot of pain from his injuries. But the worst of the pain had been lifted, the suffocating weight that had been hung over his head was gone, the emotional torment was no more. He just wanted sleep now. Blissful sleep.

Jean and Scott walked side by side behind them, and Storm and Evan followed.

"It's over, isn't it?" Evan asked his aunt as they walked out into the rain once more. His dry shirt began to turn darker as it absorbed the water.

"Almost," Storm replied, her eyes forward. She called on her concentration as the rain continued to patter around them, her eyes glowing faintly as her powers activated inside her. A second later the rain slowed to a drizzle before completely stopping.

They finished their journey home under the grey clouds without the rain to soak them through, silent as they followed the brawny form of Logan.

At the doors of the Institute they were met by Professor X and Hank; each looking upon Kurt's limp form in Logan's arms with concern.

"Logan, with me to the infirmary," Hank said softly, waiting for Logan to move first before following a step behind. Together they took Kurt away, with Rogue and Kitty following closely behind.

Storm, Evan, Scott and Jean remained in the foyer with the Professor, watching as the others disappeared out of sight.

"I gather, without probing anyone's mind, that things will be alright, now," Xavier tried with a hopeful and questioning tone.

Jean nodded. "I don't think Kurt could stand anyone knowing what _he_ thought he'd done without his apology first . . . so he went after Logan, Scott and Evan at the hospital," she explained. Her hair seemed far longer down her back when it was weighed by rainwater.

"Why couldn't he tell us?" Evan asked softly, looking up at the taller mutants. "I mean, it was horrible, I know, but . . ."

"He thought he'd _killed_ that boy," Jean explained quietly. "He didn't know what happened to Josh after he saved him from the tree incident. I picked up in his mind that he believed he had killed an innocent boy – until he saw the article in the newspaper . . . I wouldn't want to tell anyone I was a killer either"

"He thought it was his own power that hurt Josh," Scott added with a solemn tone. "That's why he didn't 'port away from Josh's brothers . . . he though he deserved the beating . . ."

Evan shook his head sadly as similar expressions fixed themselves on everyone's features.

"Well," Professor X gained their attention, "the worst is over, the truth has been given to Kurt and to us all. He, as well as we, can breath much easier." He looked at them. "All that needs to be done is helping Kurt return to health . . . and being there for him. I feel this will still leave a mark on the boy, and he will need our support."

Small nods were given to this, and the Professor smiled. "I am extremely glad, though, that it has all turned out with the answers both Kurt and we sought. Now, you can all properly fill me in over a well deserved hot mug of chocolate."

There were mutual smiles and grins, and the five of them made their way to the kitchen, their spirits considerably lighter than they have been all week.

* * *

One more chapter to go. 


	13. Recovery

**To Live To Suffer**

* * *

The institute had gained back most of its usual, cheerful atmosphere by the next morning. Waking up now was now greeted with a feeling of relief instead of a feeling of dread. Silence was still a main part of the air in the huge mansion, but it had changed its vibes. No longer was it morbid and heavy.

The occupants walked without having to worry they were looking too perky for the mood, and smiles were allowed again for no reason. Not that all the mutants went about with grins on their faces, but the entire aura of the Xavier institute was back to its old self, meaning there was nothing to keep them down.

The new recruits signed a huge Get Well card, bought from their combined allowances, and sent down to Kurt in the infirmary. They had been told that everything was cleared up, and that Kurt had made a mistake in thinking he had become a murder. They were glad he was on his way returning to normal again.

"Hey," Rogue greeted warmly, watching her brother with a smile as he woke from the sleep he had fallen into yesterday. She was leaning on the nightstand, watching him affectionately.

Opening his eyes further at the sound of her voice, Kurt turned his head on the soft, comfy pillow to look at the older mutant. He gave a smile in return for her greeting.

"How ya feeling?"

Kurt blinked tiredly, and then again to clear the sleep from his eyes. He paused as if thinking how exactly he should tell her, but simply said, "I'm okay." The smile still remained. Despite the IV drip that was attached to his hand again, the dull but healing pains of his injuries, and the fact he was in the infirmary instead of his much-missed bedroom, he felt good; his burden now lifted.

"Y' should be feeling great, y' saved someone's life," she said gently. All the little details had been explained, everyone was at last clued in to what happened. Finally, Kurt's friends understood everything. It feltlike something had been lifted off their shoulders, too.

Kurt's smile tugged a little more at one corner as his eyes lowered. "I'm glad zuh little boy recovered . . . but," his smile vanished, ". . . it vas still my fault he vas rushed to hospital . . ."

"No it wasn't – Logan explained to us, it was th' boy's illness that caused him to be taken t' hospital," Rogue argued quietly. "Ya gotta stop placing the blame on y'self."

"But – "

"Kurt," Rogue said gently but firmly.

The younger mutant watched her for a second, and closed his lips with a sigh. He straightened his head and looked at the ceiling. A second or two passed.

"It just feels like . . ." he started quietly, "ozher people suffer because of me . . . My parents . . . You guys . . . Innocent people . . ." He watched the white surface above him.

Rogue shook her head with her green eyes locked on his. "We don't suffer because of you, your parents would say the same – an' th' innocent people we've helped save haven't complained so far . . ." She leant forward. "You think you're causing all of us trouble and pain because you're so self conscious about your looks and what they do to people – but you're wrong. Try an' see from behind our eyes; ya're a valuable member to th' X Men, a great friend and . . . a good brother." She gave his shoulder a squeeze. "Th' only pain y' cause us is hunger when ya've eaten all th' food," Rogue added, smiling. "Trust me when ah say you don't cost us any kinda sufferin'."

Kurt's mouth twisted into something that was neither a grim nor happy smile. He seemed to be thinking while he studied the ceiling. He wished he could tell Rogue something about his past, just to have an example of what he meant, but he promised himself not to burden anybody with his horrific memories (part of that promise broken somewhat when Jean read his mind).

"I guess, maybe you could be right," he said hesitantly. "Right about my friends . . . but sometimes . . ." He drifted off, as though the sentence was continuing in his head and he was listening to it. He took in an audible breath. " Sometimes it's like _I_ live just to suffer . . . I vatch people I love being hurt and I can't do anyzhing because I can't make a difference . . ." He thought about his parents as he said this, his loving Mother and Father back home in Germany, and he felt guilty. Sometimes he wondered if it was easier for them when he wasn't there. They could relax without having to worry if anyone would come to the house and see their 'son'. They could freely go out and socialize with no one to hold them back.

"If you do anything you can to help, then that's all anyone would expect and be grateful for," Rogue answered after a short pause, wondering where the conversation had taken them. She felt Kurt was talking about something she didn't know.

"Yeah," Kurt said distantly, and Rogue didn't think he'd even heard her.

"Hey," she said, touching his face and gaining his attention. "Ah hope ya have ya appetite back soon. Miss Munro is gonna make ya somethin' special when ya get outta th' infirmary." She probably should have left it as a surprise, but Rogue really wanted to change the subject.

A smile curled Kurt's lips again. "Yeah?" Rogue nodded and Kurt blinked and looked at her with something of his old self in his expression. "I feel hungry."

Rogue grinned. "Well we've had plenty of time t' stock th' kitchen up in th' past week. Anything in particular?"

Kurt thought for a second. "_Not_ soup."

* * *

Returning to school in much higher spirits, the X Men completed the next week minus Kitty, for she continued to stay with a recovering Kurt, owing to the fact that both he and she had to stick with their cold cover-up. 

They watched their blue friend heal over the next four days with steady and satisfying progress. It seemed once he wanted to heal he did so, much better than the days he didn't. There were still times when he sunk into a silent mood, but it was to be expected, the boy had suffered quite an ordeal. However, with his friends and teachers there to help guide him down the path of healing, he was doing very well.

On the forth day, after the incident at the hospital that had revealed the answers, Hank and Jean entered the infirmary. The resident redhead had returned from school not long ago.

"Haven't you read that book yet?" Jean asked her friend as she sat down on his bed at his knees.

Kurt, sat on his bed covers with a book in his hands, looked up as both mutants entered the room and replied to Jean, "Almost." He had never really sat down and read a book before, since he was so active and restless. But since he was stuck in the infirmary – imprisoned, as he described, by Mr. McCoy – Kitty had forced a book into his hands and told him to read to help pass the time. He had been incredibly bored and fidgety and it was only everyone's forceful instructions to stay put that he obeyed.

Jean breathed a laugh. "Kitty had that one finished in two days." She knew and understood why Kurt had never properly read a book.

But Kurt was looking wearily at Mr. McCoy, his book forgotten. The Beast was placing a small, stainless steel dish on a little trolley, and had wheeled it to Kurt's bedside. There were a couple of other instruments on the trolley that gave him an involuntary shudder. He stared at them.

Hank noticed and gave a warm, calming smile. "Don't look so scared, I'm just going to be removing your stitches."

But even the sight of those items on the trolley already had Kurt's heat beating faster. Everything from medical equipment to bandages had been put away from view while he had been confined to the room, so he had felt less fearful. He realized now Hank must have known how they made him feel for him to hide them.

Jean held out a piece of square paper that Kurt had been using as a bookmark. "You wanna continue reading through this?" He had a lot of stitches that needed taking out, and it might be better for him to be distracted by his book.

Kurt took the piece of paper from her gently. "I, uh . . . don't zhink I could read it." He wedged the paper between two pages, and laid it beside him, glancing at Hank carefully as though the man was about to stab him. His heart gave a sharp jolt as he saw that Hank was placing a syringe on the trolley.

"Vhassat for?" Kurt breathed, his body freezing.

Hank didn't seem the least bit surprised by his behavior. "It's okay," he soothed. "Your chest is still inflamed and sore, so removing the stitches will be a bit painful. This is just a little anesthetic so you won't feel it." He picked up one of the small items on the trolley. "But I'll remove those ones last. So if you'll be still, I'd like to unstitch your forehead." Hank's voice was so gentle and calm it even made Jean feel a little more relaxed than she was.

Hank pulled a chair up so he could sit at Kurt's level, then motioned for the younger to move forward. It helped if both were comfortable. Jean moved further onto the bed and pulled back Kurt's bangs as Hank raised the tool to the blue teenager's head.

"Thank you, Jean," he said. Kurt flinched and clamped his eyes shut as Hank began to cut and pull the stitches free very gently. The wound had healed nicely, and once all the threads were gone the scar was barely visible. "That's healed really well," Hank commented in a doctor like way. He dropped the last used stitch in the steel bowl as Jean leaned forward to take a look. Kurt felt like an exhibit.

"Hey yeah, you can barely tell," the telepath said brightly, letting his hair fall back into place.

The blue elf rubbed his forehead carefully. He could feel the scar, and it was sensitive to his touch. But it didn't hurt, thankfully. Perhaps he could come out of this with little scarring.

"A few more to go," Hank announced.

* * *

Having eaten their lunches, the rest of the X Men lounged about in the kitchen snacking on deserts or watching the TV while their food went down. Jean had disappeared half an hour ago to visit Kurt, and the rest were about to join her. They were stopped as two people entered the kitchen at that second. 

Jean walked through the door slowly, helping a slightly unstable Kurt who was dressed in the same white tank top and pants Hank had given him. Jean was smiling with a supporting arm around his waist, and he seemed to be looking at everything as if he hadn't seen it in years.

"Kurt," Scott exclaimed, pulling out the closest chair for him. "How ya doing?"

Jean let go of Kurt as he sat down, his friends stood or sat around him.

"Hungry," he answered. "I hope you haven't eaten everyzhing."

"When you're in the house, no way," Evan smirked. "We wouldn't dare."

Kurt grinned. "Gut, because I can't feel my chest and I'd razher eat now zhen vhen zuh feeling comes back." He rubbed the place just below his ribcage where Hank had given him the injection. A large section of his torso felt like it was missing.

Jean laughed and motioned to the fridge. The door opened by her telekinesis, and the contents sat enticingly on the shelves.

"What do you fancy?" She asked as Kitty poured up a glass of juice.

"Do I see chocolate cake?" Kurt hinted.

"Mm, but y' can't have that," Rogue answered with a teasing smile. "Mr. McCoy's given us a list of ya new diet, and chocolate cake isn't included."

Kurt looked humorously disappointed. "Oh man! Zhat's not fair – after vhat I had to endure in zhat infirmary for over a veek." He looked at it, sat there begging to be eaten.

"It's health food for _you_, buddy," Scott told him, indicating the many green and organic foods on the shelves around the lonely cake.

"Only for a while," Kitty said. "Then after that we sneak you cake in the middle of the night when Mr. McCoy isn't looking." She grinned.

"Mr. McCoy seems to like making me suffer," Kurt muttered with a smile, slipping a sly glance to Rogue. She punched him very lightly.

"For now, though," Jean spoke, having moved over to the kitchen counter top after she'd walked in, and now turning back with a bowl. "Soup."

Kurt's eyebrows rose. "Nooo," he groaned, turning away. Everyone laughed.

"She's kidding," Kitty broke the laughter as Jean showed him the empty dish. "But the doctor's orders are that you can't eat much –"

"So no stuffing your face like usual," Rogue added.

"And nothing unhealthy," Evan spoke up.

"No 'porting, either," Jean said a little more seriously, giving Kurt one of her warning eyes.

"Which means you shouldn't be as hungry," Scott put in.

Kurt looked at him. "Vhich means . . . I have to valk everyvhere?" He asked slowly. Hank McCoy obviously didn't want him teleporting to lessen the strain on his injuries, but if he had to walk everywhere (not that he was complaining) it would still do the same.

"Actually," Evan said, drawing out the word to gain his attention, "the Prof has an extra wheelchair . . . "

Kurt stared. "_No_ _vay._"

"Mr. McCoy said if you walk about slowly and not often, and increase it as the days go by, you should safely stretch out the muscles and there'll be no problem with cramp or strain," Kitty explained, leaning her arms on the table.

_Mr. McCoy sure sounds like zuh doctor he keeps saying he isn't_, Kurt thought. He was put off by the fact he had to eat certain things, and that he couldn't wander far. Also he didn't much like being treated as though he was sick . . . but he had been through a lot, and his friends were making sure he healed correctly. And, if he was honest to himself, Kurt wasn't in the best of shapes. His chest was beginning to sting as the anesthetic wore off, and his leg was still throbbing from where an entangled stitch had been wrestled free. He could feel the scar on his forehead too. Although it wasn't hurting, it felt a little tight and uncomfortable. It would be this way for another week or so, he realized.

"Oh, and no wall-crawling," a voice cut into his thoughts.

Kurt blinked back to reality and looked at Jean's face, his own expression a little clouded. He blinked again.

Jean frowned. "Did you hear me?" She asked.

"Yeah," Kurt answered, looking down at the table in front of him. His hand had risen on its own to massage his forehead, and his tail, which hadn't been its lively self, was drooping on the floor. Something Kitty and Rogue (being the side to notice) saw. He felt the content feeling that had bubbled inside him a minute ago disappear. He didn't know why.

The X men looked at each other, exchanging expressions. Jean put the bowl away and brought out a plate, on which she began to lay out a health meal. Evan and Scott passed a few words between them as Kitty and Rogue sat and stood silently beside Kurt.

Everyone's attention was directed at the door as Ororo and Professor X entered. Upon seeing Kurt they both smiled. Xavier rolled up to the front of the table (his usual place, just like the dining room table) as Ororo approached Kurt.

"You are looking much better, young man," Miss. Munro smiled warmly at him, lifting his chin gently with her hand. "It's good to see you in the kitchen again."

He smiled back weakly and watched her walk past, out of his vision to a chair behind.

"I, uh," he said quietly. "I zhink I'll go to my room. I feel a little tired," he lied. He missed his bedroom very much though. It was the one place he felt completely comfortable and safe in. He wanted to go to it sooner rather than later.

"What about lunch?" Jean asked, a little surprised. Everyone was watching him.

"No zhanks, I'm not hungry," he fibbed again, avoiding her gaze along with everyone else's. Kurt stood and stumbled to the door before Rogue caught up with him.

"I'll help ya," she offered.

He began to protest, but she gave him one of her looks, and he reluctantly let her help him down the corridor away from the kitchen.

After a few seconds and out of earshot of the others, Rogue said, "it doesn't take a genius t' see you didn't wanna be in there no more."

Kurt said nothing for a while as he used the wall with his free hand to guide himself along.

"I . . . I felt uncomfortable," he admitted, staring at the floor ahead.

Rogue understood. With her arm around his skinny waist she could feel how thin he had become over the past week and a half. She could feel his ribcage on her arm, and wondered whether or not she should put Kurt in his room and return to the kitchen to fetch him the meal Jean was making.

They arrived at Kurt's door and Rogue helped him through. Kurt noticed there were more get-well cards on his nightstand (one from each of the X Men, he presumed, since they had all signed a single card for his bed at the infirmary). His own bed was already made for him, and his curtains were open, letting in a beautiful golden glow from the setting sun outside; seeming to welcome him back. It had never looked so good.

Rogue made to take Kurt to the bed, but Kurt tried to move to the French doors.

"Where're you going?" She asked.

"Zuh vindow," he said, looking at it as though it was beckoning him.

Rogue complied and together they moved rather steadily to the double doors. Kurt unleashed the catch and pulled them open. A cool, gentle breeze caressed their skin and fur, lifting their hair and fluttering the curtains.

Kurt pulled towards the balcony's stone railing, and Rogue moved with him, leaning against the cool top.

"It's beautiful," Rogue said, looking at the sunset. Her hand remained around his waist but she loosened her grip.

He, too, was watching the beautiful scene in front of them. The night's air felt so good, unlike the stuffy confinement of the infirmary, and Kurt wished he could bring his bed out and sleep there. He murmured a wordless agreement to Rogue.

They stared at it together, watching it go down, noticing the beautiful colors it bathed the clouds in and how it was reflected in the oil-black water of the ocean. Stars began to twinkle when the sun's strength disappeared, until all that remained was the pink undersides of the clouds.

"I bet you missed this," Rogue spoke into the silence half an hour later. "Being down in the infirmary an' all."

Kurt nodded, a small, barely noticeable action. "Yeah."

The air had turned a bit cooler, but still the night was beautiful. A deep, dark blue was now the sky's color, dotted with tiny white pinpricks. The moon had appeared not long ago to illuminate them in its glow.

"I used to vatch zuh sun set every night," Kurt said. "I'm glad you got to see it too."

Rogue smiled, and using the arm around his waist pulled him into a half hug. "Me too."

He let his head rest on her shoulder and felt much better than he ever did since finding out he wasn't a killer. He thought of how much his parents would have liked to see the sunset with him, and then suddenly he thought of Mystique. Did she know what had happened to him in the past eleven days? Would she have even cared?

Rogue had said something to him, but having been lost in his thoughts, he hadn't heard.

"Huh?" He asked, looking up at her.

"Ah said, we should move inside, and get you somethin' t' eat – y' stomach just rumbled," she told him.

"Oh," he said, now realizing he was starving. He remembered not eating since the morning when Hank had brought him soup for breakfast. His stomach growled again as if to justify that thought.

Rogue had already pulled him inside and was closing the doors, and he looked at his dark room. His eyes had to adjust a second or two more than usual, since he hadn't been in the dark very often in the infirmary (Hank liked a lot of light, so he could see everything except a shadow).

Untangling himself from Rogue, Kurt said he could walk without her help to his bed, of which he did do. He flopped down on the soft mattress, relishing the soft, comfortable feel of it. The infirmary's wasn't exactly uncomfortable, but being in a different bed for over a week had given Kurt the need for his own. He didn't even know if Mr. McCoy had released him from his prison in sickbay, but Kurt didn't and wouldn't move from his room to that place again. Not tonight, and hopefully never again.

Rogue sat next to him. Even though his eyes were closed he could feel the mattress sink slightly at her weight.

"Looks like someone already brought ya food up for ya," she said.

Kurt opened his eyes and saw what she meant. Behind him on his nightstand sat the plate of health food, next to the get-well cards. It must have been put there when they had been outside.

"Suddenly I don't feel so hungry," Kurt groaned, rolling over onto his front, forgetting and regretting his sore chest. He stifled the gasp of pain by gritting his teeth and burring his face in the bed cover

Rogue smiled and reached over for the plate. "Oh c'mon, it doesn't look that bad," she said as she brought it to her lap. She helped herself to a carrot stick.

The crunching of her chewing lifted Kurt's head and he rolled onto his back again, hair fanned out around his head. The pain lifted a little from his chest.

"Zhen you eat it," he said.

"I think you _need_ it," Rogue said, eyeing his stomach. His shirt had crinkled up and the bottom of his ribcage was showing. He didn't look well.

Pulling his shirt down, Kurt mumbled, "Like zhat stuff can help."

"Y' look _sick_," Rogue said softly. "Y' really should eat." She held out the plate to him. Hank McCoy had told them that the diet Kurt should be kept on would bring his weight back up to where it _had_ been. But it had to be steady and healthy if it was returned to normal correctly, which meant Kurt might be on it for a while. He was known to like all food, so hopefully this wasn't much of a bad thing for him.

Kurt sat up, took the plate from Rogue and stared at it. Jean had made an effort to arrange it nicely, and he admitted it looked good. He picked up a piece and began to knar on it.

While he ate, Rogue fell onto her back and spread her arms, studying the white ceiling. She wondered what everyone downstairs was doing, and how long to would take Logan to convince Hank that Kurt was fit enough for Danger Room sessions.

"Have y' ever bought anything from that joke shop?" Rogue asked suddenly, thinking of the things she saw in there with Kitty.

Kurt's crunching stopped when he answered. "Yeah." He swallowed. "I replaced Mr. Logan's cigarette lighter viv von zhat electrocutes zuh holder a vhile back. But he said if I did it again, or anyzhing like it, he'd make me clean and wax zuh X Jet along viv extra Danger Room sessions." He paused as Rogue smiled, amused. Kurt added with a grin, "You should have seen his hair, zhough."

Rogue couldn't help but laugh.

* * *

**End?** Oh yes, I had fun writing this, but I think it strayed off the path I really wanted.

A major thanks to everyone who reviewed, I really do appriciate all the kind comments.More thanks go to **Gizmac **and **Tailfeather**(thanks for the chocolate ;) )for their reviews on the previous chapter.


End file.
